Journey
by Yami Faerie
Summary: AU "Demon Blood" 'verse. Collection of one-shots taking place between "Demon Virus" and "Demon Game". Each chapter has its own summary.
1. All That Really Matters

**Journey**

**All That Really Matters**

**It lives! Anyway, this story is actually going to consist of several one-shots that will bring us to the next big story. This one is a retelling of 02.08 "Crossroad Blues" and features Jo Harvelle as well as my OFC, Danielle Young. Enjoy!

* * *

**

Provo, Utah wasn't the most exciting place, but the food was good and Sam seemed happy with the internet connection. "Nerd," Dean often said, though with an underlying fondness he knew Sam could pick up on without him saying a word.

Danielle the Empath continued to work almost daily with Sam to how to control his own skills, and he was now able to block out both hers and Dean's emotions for a few hours. It gave both brothers hope for the future.

About a week after the events in River Grove, Jo called Dean, happily reporting that she was on a new Hunt.

"That's great," Dean told her. "You manage to keep from getting kidnapped or arrested?"

"Of course," Jo replied, voice only _tinted_ with annoyance. "I've already taken on a few Hunts of my own without any problems, Dean."

"All right," Dean replied.

There was a moment of silence. "This one's Hellhounds," Jo finally told him, "and I don't have a lot of time before it claims its last victims."

"Hellhounds?" Dean had said, instantly attracting Sam's attention. "Seriously? How?"

"Put her on speaker," Sam said, opening a new browser window on his laptop. Dean rolled his eyes, but complied.

"Turns out there was this artist, George Darrow, who summoned a Crossroads Demon about ten years ago," Jo's voice came over the speaker. "He made a Deal, wanted to be talented — he's really good, by the way — but the demon didn't leave once he'd made the Deal."

"You're kidding," Dean said.

"Nope," Jo said. "She stuck around for about a week, makin' more Deals with more folks, and they're all coming due." There was a moment of silence. "Guys, I need help."

"How?" Sam spoke up. "There's no way to stop a Hellhound once a Deal's been made that I know of."

"But I've _got_ to do this," Jo said, sounding insistent in a way that meant she _cared_ too much to let this one go. "Almost all of them are dead, but there's this guy, Evan Hudson, and his Deal…" She trailed off.

"What'd he ask for?" Sam asked, and Dean was pretty sure that whatever the answer was, it was going to be the clincher.

"He saved his wife from dying of cancer," Jo finally said, and Dean closed his eyes. Of all the things… "He was desperate," Jo continued, "told me that Julie was _days_ away from dying! Please, guys, I need help, he's only got a couple of days left!"

Dean sighed and looked over at Sam. "You're still not ready to travel," he told his brother and feeling unsurprised by the annoyed eye roll. "You're not," he insisted, "Danielle says you probably won't be ready until at _least_ Thanksgiving."

"What's going on?" Jo asked.

"Nothing," Sam said quickly before adding, "but Dean, this man's Deal, he shouldn't have to _die_ for it —"

"I'm not disagreeing with you," Dean cut him off, "but we don't know of any way to stop this from happening."

Sam sighed and turned away, running a hand through his hair. There was a long moment of silence. "Maybe if we confronted the demon who made the Deal…" He trailed off.

"Dude, no one is makin' any more Deals," Dean snapped.

"Then trick it," Sam said, looking up. "Trap it and make the right demands so no souls go to Hell and this guy and wife live."

There was another moment of silence.

"You think that could work?" Jo asked over the phone.

"No," Dean said at once. "Maybe… Dammit, I dunno."

"It can't hurt to try," Sam said.

"You can't leave yet," Dean reminded Sam, "and I'm not leaving you."

"I know how to summon the Crossroads Demon," Jo said. "I could try it."

"No offense, Jo," Dean said, "but I don't think you've got enough experience with demons to try something like that."

"You do," Sam said innocently, blinking up at Dean. "And I'd be fine by myself for a few days. Danielle's sisters actually like having me around, so I'm sure they wouldn't mind if I went there while you do this."

"Sam —" Dean started, but his brother cut him off.

"This guy doesn't deserve to go to Hell for saving his wife's life," Sam said. "If anyone can save him, it's you."

Sometimes the level of confidence Sam had in Dean bordered on scary, but after everything they'd been through…

"Fine," Dean finally said. "I'll do it, but you totally owe me for this, Joanna."

He could practically _hear_ Jo's scowl over the phone for using her full name as she told him where she was. "I'll be there tomorrow," he told her before flipping his phone shut. "Sam —"

"Already on it," Sam said, holding his phone up to his ear. "Hey, Dani, it's me." He smiled. "I'm doing good, you?" There was a pause. "Listen, I know you're in between classes right now, but we got a call from a friend of ours, and she needs Dean's help for a couple days. Would it be too much trouble if I —?" He broke off, and a moment later he grinned. "Great, thanks. Wanna tell your folks so they don't freak out when I show up?" He paused, listening before he laughed. "Yeah, I will. See you later."

"We good?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Sam said, shutting down his laptop. "Dani says to be careful and come back in one piece."

"Don't I always?" Dean asked with a grin of his own. "C'mon, let's pack up."

Less than an hour later, Dean had left Sam at the Young's home and was off to play hero. Again.

* * *

"I don't like this," he told Jo, staring at the bag in her hands. "You sure that stuff works?"

"Goofer dust?" Jo grinned. "The artist guy gave it to me, said it would work long enough for him to finish his final painting, and that was yesterday, so…" She trailed off. "We know hoodoo stuff like this works."

Dean still didn't like this, but he _had_ driven all night just to get here. "You go and protect Hudson, and I'll go bargain with a demon," he said. "How's that for weird?"

Jo laughed and patted Dean's arm. "I'm sure you'll manage," she said, before holding out a slip of paper. "Now, here's the directions to get to that crossroad I told you about, and Dean?"

Dean met Jo's eyes and saw her worry and fear.

"Please do this before the Hellhound chews _me_ up for getting in its way."

"I will," Dean said.

* * *

Putting together a plan of attack had taken up most of the drive over, so all that was really left was preparation. Dean surveyed the area and figured that with just the right amount of luck and talk, he might actually be able to pull this off.

Might, of course, being the key word.

Jo had handed over a ready-made box of the right ingredients. "It just needs a photo of you," she had told him, "and then you bury it in the middle of the crossroad and uh… you know."

Yeah. Dean knew, all right.

It didn't take long for the demon to show up. The woman was attractive, dark hair, light eyes that changed red at will (probably the only turn-off about her), and pale skin that shined around the edges of the sexy black dress she wore.

"Hi, Dean."

It didn't surprise him that she knew his name. It seemed he _had_ managed to piss off enough demons lately, after all.

"So," the demon said after a moment, "what brings a guy like you to a place like this?"

Dean just stared at her.

"You _did_ summon me," she added softly.

"Honestly, I'm just glad it worked," Dean finally said.

"First time?"

Dean nodded. "You know who I am."

"I get the newsletter," the demon said with a grin that was somewhere between amused and downright sexy.

"Anything good?" Dean asked.

The demon stepped forward. "Heard you were handsome," she said, tone soft and sultry, "but you're just… _edible_." She grinned and tossed her hair over a shoulder. "What can I do for you?"

"Maybe," Dean said after a moment, "we should do this in my car." He gave his most charming smile. "Nice and private."

The demon grinned. "Sounds good to me," she said as she turned to walk over to the Impala.

"I was hoping we could strike a Deal," Dean told her as he followed her over.

"Really," the demon said. "I take it you're aware that Azazel wants you downstairs?"

"I know," Dean said. "I never said my soul was a part of this Deal, though."

The demon stared at him for a moment before looking down at the car. "What's this Deal about, then?"

"I want Evan Hudson released from his contract."

The demon eyed him before leaning forward, hands pressed against the hood of the car. "So sorry, darling," she breathed, "but that's not negotiable."

"You don't think I could make it worth your while?" Dean asked.

The demon grinned. "You said you weren't gonna offer yourself, Dean," she said. "And why do you care about Evan, anyway? Wouldn't you rather bargain for you daddy's soul? I can bring him back and give you ten years for your troubles."

It was tempting, Dean couldn't deny that. He wanted John back from the dead, out of Hell, right alongside him and Sam where he belonged. He wanted John to teach them, to help protect Sam, to tell him everything he knew about the future… But he also knew that John would never want him to trade his soul for that. His orders had been clear: protect Sam, save him from the future days.

"That's not what my dad would want," Dean finally said, "but I still think we can talk about Evan's situation." He pulled open the passenger-side door and gestured to the seat. "After you."

The demon started to move forward, and then froze, eyes looking down at the ground.

Of course.

"A Devil's Trap?" she hissed, eyes going red as she whipped her head around to stare at Dean. "You stupid — I should tear you limb from fucking _limb_ —"

Dean backed away at once. "Take your best shot," he challenged.

The demon stared at him for a long moment. "No," she whispered, "I don't think so. I'm not gonna put you out of your misery."

Okay, Sam would approve of that, but it still didn't solve Evan's problem.

"Why not?" he asked at length.

"'Cause your misery's the whole point," the demon said, suddenly smirking. "It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you and Sammy, how he sold his soul without you or Sam being able to do a _thing_ about it — I mean, that's gotta hurt, even after nearly five months." Her smirk grew wider. "You wake up and your first thought is, 'I can't do this anymore.' You're all lit up with pain, I mean, you loved him _so much_. And it's all your fault."

She slowly advanced as she spoke, and Dean struggled not to show her how close to dead-on her words really were. She laughed, anyway.

"You blew it, Dean," she breathed, leaning close. "I could have given you what you need."

"Right," Dean said, "because that's what my dad would want me to do. Sell my soul for him like he did for me."

The demon shrugged. "It probably would've happened whether or not Azazel stole your brother away that night, Dean. You needed to go to the hospital, and if Azazel had left and Sam had been driving this lovely car of yours…" She trailed off. "Who knows what could've happened?"

Dean kept his silence.

"Anyway," the demon said, "I really _would_ like to bring your father back, but… your loss." She turned to walk away.

"Wait," Dean said, trying hard to keep his voice level. He still had one more ace up his sleeve, but he had to make this convincing.

The demon stopped and slowly turned, wearing a smirk that made Dean's skin crawl. He turned away and started wandering 'aimlessly'.

"My dad wouldn't want me to do this," he said at length, "but that doesn't mean I don't want him back." He turned back to the demon and allowed the tough mask to drop for once. "'Cause I do."

The demon smiled. "I know," she said softly. "Look, Dean, just forget about Evan. I could bring your dad back, just the way he was when he left you and Sammy to go die, and then you'd be reunited with ten, long, happy years together." She followed Dean as he continued the meandering. "I know it's what you want more than anything."

It hurt how much that was true. Part of Dean cursed Sam for coming up with this idea, because actually doing this was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. Ten years was a hell of a lot better than three days, right?

"It'd be like resetting the natural order of things," the demon told Dean as he neared the old water tower that stood about five feet away from him. "You probably should've _died_ in that warehouse in L.A., or even back in that lonely cabin. So many chances to live that you didn't want."

Dean had been willing to die before, but his family hadn't given up on him, not once. It was odd to suddenly realize that for all their independence and strength, both John and Sam cared about Dean enough to sacrifice themselves and other people to keep him with them.

"Natural order," he echoed softly.

The demon grinned as Dean turned and walked under the water tower, and then she followed him. "Well?" she asked.

She didn't realize.

Good.

"You think you could uh…" Dean turned and met the demon's eyes before smiling. "Maybe you could throw in a set of steak knives?"

The demon's eyes flashed red again.

"You know," she said, sounding like her patience was seriously wearing thin (and Dean was pretty certain it _was_), "this smart-ass self-defense mechanism —"

Dean stepped out from under the water tower and grinned when the demon tried and follow and failed. She looked up.

"Dean…"

"So," Dean said, feeling a strange sense of inner strength as he relaxed his stance, "you're all trapped now. That's gotta hurt, right?" He grinned at the angry demon. "Now, about Evan Hudson…"

The demon didn't say anything.

"You call off the Hellhound and let Evan go," Dean told her, keeping his tone calm and easy. "Then I let you go."

"I can't break a binding contract."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm pretty sure 'can't' means 'don't want to'." He stared hard at the demon. "Last chance."

The demon glared at him as he pulled out John's journal. "Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age," he said, and the glare didn't change. "Going… going…"

"Let's talk about this," the demon snapped.

"Okay, gone," Dean said, shrugging as he opened the journal to the right page. "You know, if Sam was here, he'd just start reciting the perfect exorcism for ya."

"So why isn't he?" the demon snarled. "Too busy fighting off my hound?"

"Actually, my friend Jo is doing that," Dean corrected her. "Sam's back in Utah learning cool brain shit. Let's see…" He pulled out a rosary.

"Forget Evan," the demon tried again. "Think of your dad!"

Dean met those red eyes. "I think of him everyday." He returned his attention to the journal and began. "Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino, qui fertis super caelum caeli ad Orientem. Ecce dabit voci Suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem Deo. Deus caeli, Deus terrae humiliter majestati gloriae Tuae supplicamus."

The demon growled and twitched unnaturally in that way that demons did when one was in the process of sending them back down south.

"Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate," Dean continued, "laqueo, deceptione et nequitia, omnis fallaciae, libera nos, Domine. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu Dei —"

"Wait!" the demon all but screamed, and Dean stopped reading. He looked up and suddenly the demon was right in his face, kissing him passionately and invading his mouth with her tongue. It took a few seconds to pull away.

"What was that for?" Dean asked, wiping his mouth as he glared at the demonic bitch.

"Sealing the Deal," the demon whispered, still slightly breathless from the attempted exorcism.

"Right," Dean said, "well, I prefer some warning before getting violated by demon tongue."

"Evan Hudson is free," the demon sighed. "He and his wife will live long lives."

Huh. Maybe Sam really _had_ been onto something when he came up with this hare-brained idea. Dean would have to thank him later.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asked, knowing Jo would kill him if he didn't make sure and Evan died, anyway.

"My word is my bond," the demon said, actually sounding insulted. "It's the rules. Now let me go."

Dean hesitated, but even though he would nothing better than to rid the planet of one more piece of demon scum, she _had_ kept her word. Sighing, Dean reached up and loosened a board on the underside of the water tower, breaking the Devil's Trap.

"I don't understand," the demon said after a moment when Dean began to head back to the Impala. "You _know_ where your father is, but you won't save him?"

Dean paused before turning to look at the demon. "I don't like that he's down there," he said. "I can't even _comprehend_ what it's like, but…" He shook his head. "My dad would kill me if I made a Deal and brought him back without knowin' exactly what's comin'. I have to trust that he knew what he was doin' when he damned himself like that for his sons."

There was a long moment of silence, and then the demon was gone.

* * *

Jo looked beyond wiped out when Dean reached the Hudson residence. "Thank you _so much_," she said the moment she saw him.

Dean grinned, though it felt a little forced. "You still owe me, Harvelle."

Jo grinned and threw her arms around him in a warm hug. "I know, Winchester," she replied before pulling back.

"Evan okay?"

Jo nodded. "He's probably gonna have _nightmares_ for awhile," she said, "but I think he'll manage in the end." She shuddered. "I don't think I ever wanna see what those mutts look like. Just _hearing_ them —"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Take care of yourself, you hear?"

"Of course," Jo said, smiling. "You, too."

* * *

Sam was up on the Young's roof with Danielle when Dean returned. "What're you two doin' up there?" he called out once he exited the car.

"Just lookin'," Sam said. "How's Jo?"

"She's good," Dean answered. "I'm flat-out exhausted."

"You could've stayed somewhere else for a night before heading back," Danielle said. "Sam's been doing well with us." She shot Sam a bright grin. "Been keepin' a _real good_ eye out for him."

"I'm sure you have," Dean said, feeling amused, "but I think I already made it clear he's _my_ responsibility."

"Dude," Sam said with a grin, "I'm twenty-three."

Danielle giggled. "The 'not a child line' doesn't work, remember?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Think you could come down, now?" he asked. "I'm starving."

"Better get down there," Danielle sighed dramatically, leaning against Sam with a bright grin. "Dean's stomach might eat him alive if we're not fast enough."

Sam laughed and Dean narrowed his eyes.

"Are you two drunk?" he asked after a minute.

Sam shook his head, hair bouncing wildly. "Just kinda tipsy, we didn't think Dani's parents would appreciate anything more."

"Why tipsy, then?"

"Reminiscing," Danielle sighed. "It kinda makes it easier to remember."

It took a moment, but Dean got it. They were both still healing from their losses and finding ways to cope. "How'd you get up there?" he asked.

"Ladder," Sam answered, "backyard."

Dean nodded. "All right, time to come down and get food. Your parents are convinced I'm the responsible one, so I may as well live up their expectations."

Sam snorted. "You're not _that_ responsible," he said.

"Dude, just come _down_ already," Dean laughed. He headed around to the backyard, fully intent on making sure neither of the rooftop dwellers hurt themselves.

He paused, standing next to the ladder, and considered.

"_You _know_ where your father is, but you won't save him?"_

Dean wished he _could_ save John, but his father's orders had been clear. He belonged _here_, with Sam.

"_Sam needs you more than he's ever needed me."_

That probably wouldn't have been true if things had been different, but it was what it was. Sam needed Dean, and he needed Sam just as much.

No _wonder_ people kept thinking they were a gay couple, he suddenly thought to himself. They may as well start singing love songs and holding hands the way they stuck close so often.

Dean snorted at the thought as Sam finally came down from the roof, Danielle following behind. "Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"I'm good, Sammy," Dean said. "We're both good."

Sam smiled and nodded silently.

"Okay," Dean said, rubbing his hands together, "who wants Denny's?"

"I do!" Danielle said brightly. "I am _so_ ready to show off my all-encompassing mental shielding skills if there's people."

Sam snorted. "I'm doin' better, Dani."

"You _barely_ managed with my family during dinnertime the last two nights," Danielle proclaimed, glaring up at Sam without heat. "And I've already told you that I've got no problems with it, so stop trying to be such a…" She trailed off with a faint frown. "Damn, what's the word?"

One of the funny things about getting Danielle even slightly inebriated was how she'd suddenly forget the simplest words. Dean suppressed the laugh that wanted to bubble up and made a suggestion. "A bitch?"

"Jerk," Sam said with an eye roll.

"Not quite what I had in mind," Danielle said after a moment, "but it works." She grinned brightly. "Let's go!"

It was a small, but happy group that made its way to the Impala. Dean knew he and Sam didn't have much, but they still had each other, and it was worth hanging onto with everything they had. It was all that really mattered in the end.


	2. Happy to Give

**Journey**

**Happy to Give**

**I debated long and hard about this one, particularly the ending. You'll see why when you reach it, cause I think it kinda starts to set things up for what's coming. Anyway, this one-shot features Danielle Young, her family and relatives, and her best friend Roxanne Parker, as well as a creepy guy (you'll have to guess who he is). Enjoy!**

* * *

"Thanksgiving?"

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Yeah Dean, you know, turkey, stuffing, that disgusting cranberry shit, sweet potatoes and whatever else?"

Dean flushed slightly. "I _know_ what you eat at Thanksgiving," he said, emotions a tad defensive. _Some things will _never_ change,_ Danielle thought to herself ruefully. "I just don't understand why you'd wanna invite _us_ to _your_ family dinner."

Danielle had spent almost every moment outside of school, Church and work that she could helping Sam learn control over his empathy. He had progressed a lot in the days following the trip to River Grove, Oregon, although he still hadn't tested his skills in any larger group settings. Part of her reasoning for inviting the Winchesters to her family's Thanksgiving dinner was to give Sam a chance to really test himself out. The other part was she knew her time with the brothers was drawing to close sooner than she wished, so she wanted to spend whatever time she could with them before they left.

"I know I've been spending a lot of time over here, but things have really improved with my family and friends since you two came along," she said. "I just wanna give something back, y'know? Plus, there'll be nine of us total with my aunt and uncle there, so it'd be good practice for Sam, too. I don't wanna throw him in the middle of a busy restaurant or a supermarket before knowing for sure that he's even remotely ready for it."

Sam was sitting at the small table in the motel room, laptop open as he did whatever it was he did. He looked up and said, "That sounds like a good idea, Dani. Plus, free food, Dean. When have you _ever_ passed up an opportunity like that?"

Dean laughed. "True enough," he said. "I guess we're in."

"Good," Danielle said. "Now, I've got to head to work before I'm late again."

"It's just up at the hill at the mall," Dean said with a grin.

"I'm still late more often than not these days," Danielle said with a laugh, "and it's _all_ your fault."

Sam grinned, as well. "You know you'd rather spend time with us than deal with annoying customers."

"Always," Danielle sighed. "I told you about the creepy guy, right?"

"Why don't you just punch him?" Dean asked as Danielle gathered her things and pulled on her coat.

"I'm trying to _keep_ my job, Dean," Danielle grinned widely. "I can't just jump in my car and roam the countryside, killing zombies and decapitating vampires while hustling pool or darts to earn my keep."

"You could," Dean said, though Danielle knew he was joking. It wasn't a life he would wish on anyone who didn't choose it, and Danielle already knew her place was with her family. Still, she shot both brothers a grin and then she was off to work, thinking of all the things she'd like to do to the creepy guy.

* * *

"So, what is you boys do?" asked Danielle's uncle Richard as he cut up the turkey.

Danielle looked up from her plate at Dean. "Traveling salesmen," Dean answered.

"How fascinating," said Michelle, Danielle's aunt. "What do you sell?"

"Sprinkler systems," Dean said. "We moved around a lot growing up, and it's what we do."

"Was your father one, too?" asked Richard. Danielle pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. She'd forgotten how probing her aunt and uncle could be sometimes. On the plus side, however, Sam was holding up really well.

"Yeah," Sam said in answer to Richard's question.

"He actually used to be a mechanic," Dean put in, "but he changed careers after our mom died."

"Oh, that's awful," said Michelle sympathetically. "How did she die?"

"House fire," Sam said softly. "I wasn't even a year old, so I never knew her."

Michelle raised one hand to her lips, horror and sadness swirling about her. "I'm so sorry," she said softly, "I never should've asked."

"It's fine," Dean said quickly, "it's been twenty-three years now."

There was a moment of silence.

"So," said Richard, "which company do you sell for?"

Dean blinked, looking very clueless, but Sam spoke up, naming some company Danielle had never heard of. Thankfully, Richard seemed satisfied with the answer.

"How did you two come to know Danielle?"

"We uh…" Dean was slightly panicked, but calmed a moment later before answering. "We went to the Tuttle's next door, but the parents weren't home and we ended up talking to Lydia, instead. She introduced us."

Michelle nodded. "But how did this friendship happen?"

Danielle met Sam's eyes. "Sam lost his girlfriend about a year ago," she answered at length, "and he knew how I felt and what I was going through, so we just… we've talked a lot, and… He's been a lot of help to me, with what happened to Jared and all."

"You _do_ seem a lot happier now," Michelle remarked. "I'm glad someone got through to you. You seriously had us all worried."

"I know," Danielle said with a sad smile.

There was another moment of silence.

"This is really good, Mrs. Young," Dean said around his turkey and stuffing, and Sam rolled his eyes, both annoyed and amused with his brother.

Lydia smiled genially. "Thank you," she replied. "Michelle and I worked really hard."

"And it shows," Dean said, glancing around the kitchen. Danielle had helped her mother and aunt with the cleaning of the kitchen and the setting of the table, and the overall effect was clean and comfortable. She could tell that Dean was impressed and even enjoying himself.

"When did you find time to date with the busy schedule you and your brother must keep?" Richard asked Sam.

"I actually went to Stanford for two years," Sam answered calmly, although Danielle could sense the slight tensing in his shoulders. "I was planning on being a lawyer, but after my girlfriend died…" He shrugged. "I managed to take the LSAT's and I studied enough that it's helped with our work on the road, so some good came out of it."

Richard nodded. "You ever think of going back to school?"

Danielle looked over at Sam before catching Dean's eye. This was one question they both clearly wondered about.

"I wouldn't say no," Sam finally said after a moment, "but the foreseeable future puts me by my brother's side, so I couldn't say for sure. I'd like to, if possible."

"And it's not possible right now?" Michelle asked with a faint frown.

"Our dad died about five months ago," Sam said. "His life insurance wasn't enough to pay for the funeral, so we had to borrow money. It'll take some time to earn enough to pay it back, and two of us working is better than one."

"You two only really have each other, then, don't you?" said Michelle with sadness.

"Yeah," Dean spoke up, "but it's not all bad. Sam's the best one at getting through the door with his puppy dog eyes."

Sam rolled said eyes, but didn't disagree. Michelle and Richard both laughed. After that, Danielle managed to turn the subject to Sarah's upcoming graduation and Elise's mathlete competition. She knew both Dean and Sam were grateful for her conversational skills.

Dessert consisted of two pies, pumpkin and apple, with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream. "I likes me some pie," Dean murmured before digging into his slice of pumpkin, and Sam snorted softly from his place next to Danielle.

"Sam, could you pass the whipped cream?" Sarah asked. Danielle looked up and stopped chewing mid-bite as the container floated past her to her older sister in the next seat over.

"What was that?" came Michelle's voice a moment later. "Did that —?"

"What?" said Sarah innocently, hand quickly grasping the container as she pulled it closer to her plate.

"I thought —" Michelle frowned for a moment before shaking her head and returning to her own plate. Danielle looked over at Sam at the same time as Dean.

Sam shot them both an apologetic look and silently dug into his slice of apple pie.

There was an awkward silence after that that lasted almost two minutes before Dean spoke up again about the food.

"Did you make this, too?" he asked. "It's freakin' delicious!"

Michelle grinned. "It's Lydia's specialty, actually," she said. "Too bad Dani can't eat it."

"You're allergic to pumpkin pie?" asked Dean, frowning as he looked over at Danielle. "Isn't that illegal?"

Danielle rolled her eyes. "Not in the 'mouth swells up and you can't breathe' way," she said. "Pumpkin pie just makes me kinda sick to my stomach, which sucks 'cause it's really good."

"It is," Dean agreed. "I'm almost tempted to ask for a whole pie to take on the road."

Richard laughed as Lydia flushed slightly. "You wouldn't be the first," he boomed heartily. "Everyone loves Lydia's pumpkin pie. Her meatloaf's amazing, too."

"It is," Sam agreed. "She made it a couple weeks back and I almost ate half the pan."

"Seriously?" Dean asked. "I thought you were still reduced to salads and sandwiches the size of my fist."

Sam smiled slightly. "I'm doin' a lot better now," he said.

Danielle watched as Dean really seemed to take in Sam's appearance. The younger brother had been pale and underweight the first time Danielle had seen him, but in the weeks they had worked together on Sam's empathy, his appetite had improved and he'd finally started putting on the pounds again.

"Yeah," Dean said, smiling and nodding, "you are."

* * *

Danielle leaned against her car as she watched the Winchesters pack the last of their things into their car. "You'll call me, right?" she said again, trying not to grin at the annoyed look Dean shot her.

"That's the seventh time you've asked," he said waspishly. "You _know_ we're keeping in contact."

Danielle finally grinned and nodded. "Yeah," she said, "I know."

Sam snorted and clapped Dean on the shoulder. "She'd have been the perfect, annoying little sister," he said.

"I'm _not_ annoying!" Danielle said indignantly.

"That's what Sammy said as a kid, too," Dean remarked, giving an 'oh, well' kind of shrug. "Younger siblings always are, though. Fact of life."

Danielle chuckled. "Whatever you say," she said, smiling. "Going after any more special kids?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "It was hard enough finding you," Dean finally said. "We're gonna take a break from our search, work some normal jobs for a little while."

"Oh," Danielle said. "Do you have a job lined up, then?"

"Yeah," Sam said, "at this Inn over in Connecticut. Two people have turned up dead who were involved in the selling of the place."

"How'd they die?" Danielle asked.

"One drowned in her bathtub," Sam said, "and the other took a surprise tumble down the stairs; his head did a one-eighty in the process."

"Ouch," Danielle winced. "Well, have fun with your hunt, then."

"We will," Dean said with a grin as he shut the trunk. "I'll go check us out, Sam." He headed off, leaving Sam and Danielle alone.

"You've made a lot of progress," Danielle said softly.

"So have you," Sam replied. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and looked away for a moment. "You know, me and Dean really don't trust too easily."

"Yeah," Danielle said, "I noticed."

"We've been more open with you than with any of the other special children," Sam admitted with a slight shrug. "I mean, we told you pretty much everything about our lives, and we _never_ do that, and you…" He trailed off, emotions tinting with the things he couldn't say. "You and I…"

"You might find someone someday," Danielle said softly. "You still have the potential, I think."

"And you don't?" Sam asked.

"Jared and I…" Danielle trailed off. "I barely dated before Jared came along, and right now, I can't imagine trying to replace the things he gave me and taught me, you know?" She smiled. "Besides, who would want a freak like me?"

"You're not a freak," Sam said, blinking a moment later as he seemed to realize that Danielle had finally used his own argument against him. "And neither am I," he added a moment later, awe in his voice.

Danielle nodded with a warmer smile. "We're just different, Sam," she told him. "There's nothing wrong with that, no matter the source."

Sam smiled back and nodded. Danielle turned away as she sensed Dean's approach. "All set?" she asked.

"Yep," Dean said. "We're good to go. Ready, Sam?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Danielle grinned and threw her arms around Sam. "You two are one of the best things to ever happen to me," she told him softly. "Stay safe, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "You, too."

Danielle pulled away and hugged Dean next. "I'm definitely gonna miss having you two around," she told him. "Be careful out there."

"We will," Dean promised her with a warm smile. "Watch over that family of yours. Nothing's more important."

"I know," Danielle said. "I will, and thanks for those anti-possession charms."

She stood back and watched the brothers climb into their car. A moment later, the engine roared to life and the Impala backed out of its spot before zooming out of the lot and onto the street towards the freeway. Not even a minute later, they had vanished from Danielle's eyesight, and she retired to her own car.

That night, she dreamed of a dead girl on the ground before the altar of a deserted-looking Catholic chapel, blue eyes vacant as blood slowly oozed from her body. Sam stood just five paces away, his eyes black as a demon's. It was terrifying.

When Danielle woke up, the details tried to slide away like always, but she clung to what she'd seen almost desperately. How many abandoned Catholic chapels were there in the U.S.? What was wrong with Sam? Was he acting of his own volition, or was he possessed? With a sigh, Danielle slid out of bed and started to get ready for her shift. She was working the morning shift in box office that morning and it wouldn't do to be late on a Sunday after a holiday.

Of course, when she got to the theater, the first thing her manager told her was that her partner in box office, namely her best friend Roxanne Parker, was going to be late due to a flat tire. Rolling her eyes, Danielle settled on the provided stool and logged onto her till before settling down to wait for customers.

"They're not just nightmares, you know."

Danielle started and looked up to see the creepy guy. He was tall-ish, heavy-set and balding with bright blue eyes that seemed capable of reading her every thought. It was disturbing, especially given that he was actually doing more than just watching her.

"Excuse me?" Danielle said after turning on her microphone so he could hear her through the glass separating her from the rest of the mall.

"Your nightmares," the man said in a strangely pleasant voice as he stared at her. "They're more than that."

Danielle stared back. "You mean… visions?"

The creepy guy smiled, sending chills down Danielle's spine. "Predictions," he said. "Things that will surely happen."

Danielle furrowed her brow as she eyed him, lowering her shields to try and gage what was going on with this man. "Who are you?" she asked slowly. "You don't feel like a demon." Honestly, he didn't feel like _anything_ she'd felt before.

"I'm not," the man said.

"Then what are you? How do you know about my dreams?"

Just then, there was a loud knocking on the door to the box office.

"Your work partner is late," the creepy guy observed.

"_Who are you?"_ Danielle pressed, ignoring the door for the moment.

"It doesn't matter," the man said, fixing Danielle with his intense gaze. "We'll never meet again."

There was more knocking on the door.

"But, the dreams," Danielle said quickly. "You said the word 'surely', but isn't there some way to change them, to stop them from happening?"

The man stared at her.

"Sam's a good man," Danielle insisted. "There must be some way to stop it, especially if that _was_ him and not just some demon riding his body."

There was a moment of silence before the creepy guy smiled. "Would you happily sacrifice your own innate goodness to save another from ending the world?"

And just like that, he was gone. Danielle stared, wondering at the faint sound of wings flapping and the words the creepy man had said to her. _Sacrifice your own innate goodness…_

"Dani, would you open the damn door already?" Roxy suddenly stepped into her vision, warm brown eyes glaring fiercely at Danielle from under short, spiky dark red hair.

"Right," Danielle said, starting and leaping off her stool.

"What were you doing?" Roxy asked when Danielle opened the door to let her in.

"I — there was…" Danielle sighed. "Nothing, I guess I was just spacing out hardcore or something."

Roxy eyed Danielle as she pulled out her lip ring and replaced it with the plastic piece she wore to look more presentable to the customers. "You _sure_ you're okay?" she asked. "You've been acting weird this whole month."

Danielle snorted. "And here I thought you were pleased by the fact I was actually talking again."

"I am," Roxy said firmly as she grasped Danielle's pale hands with her own darker ones. "You've improved by leaps and bounds since Halloween, but every now and again…" She trailed off and shrugged. "Sorry I'm late, by the way," she added, squeezing Danielle's hands before heading up to her till and logging in.

"It's fine," Danielle said, "there haven't been that many people so far."

"Good," Roxy said, dropping onto her stool and reaching up to her hair.

"It looks fine," Danielle said with a roll of her eyes as she settled back on her own stool, "leave it alone."

"You're sure? I mean, I've never had this short before."

Danielle met Roxy's eyes with a smile. "Positive," she said. "You look fantastic."

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey, I don't see the creepy guy today," Roxy said.

"He left," Danielle answered vaguely, mind wandering once more.

"So he was here, then."

"Yeah. Talked to me for once, too."

"About what?"

"Nothing important," Danielle sighed. "I don't think he's coming back, though."

"Good," Roxy said firmly. "I mean, the way he'd stare at you sometimes just set me on edge, you know?"

"Yeah," Danielle said, "I know. So, how was your dinner with Taryn's family last night? They still freaking out over the whole lesbian thing?"

Roxy snorted. "Her dad is, but everyone else seems to be coming around, now."

"Good," Danielle said firmly. "I'm glad."

The rest of their shift was spent helping customers and chatting about everything and nothing. Danielle hadn't felt this normal in over a year. Still, whenever there was a lapse in conversation, she couldn't help but recall the strange man's final words to her.

_Happy to give up yourself for another…_ Danielle frowned._ Would you do it?_

She didn't have an answer.

Meanwhile, over a thousand miles away, a demon was watching its first target. It was almost time for the competition to begin…


	3. Ask the Lonely

**Journey**

**Ask the Lonely**

**This one-shot features Ava's fiance, Brady Walker and is a retelling of 02.11 "Playthings". Enjoy!**

* * *

Pierpont Inn looked as though it had once been an absolutely beautiful place. In some ways, Sam thought it still was, although the old, once-fancy dress hanging in the room he and Dean shared was a little creepy. He had settled down, going over what they knew about the victims and speculating over the hoodoo symbol Sam had spotted on an urn outside the main door.

"Of course," Dean sighed after a moment's thought, "the most troubling question is, why do people assume we're gay?"

Sam pressed his lips together for a moment to contain his laughter. "Well," he managed after a few seconds, "you are kinda butch, but I think you're overcompensating."

Dean glared at Sam for a moment before plastering a strained smile on his face. "Right," he said dryly. Sam snorted and looked away to avoid what he was sure would be a true death glare from his older brother.

Later, they were speaking to the owner, Susan Thompson when a little girl came running into the room, which was filled with dolls and a dollhouse that was a replica of the hotel. "Mommy," the girl said, "Maggie's being mean."

"Tyler," Susan said with an air of frustration, "tell her I said to be nice, okay?"

"Hey Tyler," Sam spoke up, "I uh, I see you broke your doll. You want me to fix it?"

"I didn't break it," Tyler said, staring up at Sam with large doe eyes. "I found it like that."

"Oh," Sam said, "well maybe Maggie broke it."

Tyler shook her head, light brown hair swinging in her face. "Neither of us did it. Grandma would get mad if we broke them."

"Tyler," Susan said more gently, "Grandma wouldn't get mad."

"Grandma?" Dean echoed curiously.

"My mother," Susan explained. "Grandma Rose. These were all her toys."

Sam nodded absently as he looked down at Tyler. She was dressed in an old-fashioned kind of way; dark blue dress with a white collar, white socks with buckled shoes and a red cardigan. The outfit fit in with the hotel, but clashed with the more current outfit worn by the girl's mother. There was just something about all this that didn't seem quite right to Sam for some reason, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

After a few moments, Dean asked about seeing Grandma Rose, but Susan quickly declined them, saying her mother was seriously ill and not taking any visitors.

"She could be our witch doctor," Dean remarked later when they returned to their room. "We need to know more about this place, Sam. You should see if there's been any other freak accidents in the past."

"Yeah," Sam said, retrieving his laptop while his mind continued to work over what they already knew. He wondered if Maggie wore the same type of outfit as Tyler…

"Hey!" Dean suddenly waved a hand in front of his face. "Where are you right now?"

"What?" Sam blinked and met Dean's eyes. "Oh, right. Sorry, just thinking."

"About?" Dean prompted after a moment.

"Just that there's something off about all this," Sam admitted, "and not necessarily in the way we think."

Dean frowned and shrugged. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Sam nodded and returned to his task of setting up his laptop for research. He knew that, whatever was going on, they'd find the answers.

* * *

Brady Walker leaned back in his seat with a groan after parking his car in the garage and closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to leave work quite so late, but he had to meet this next deadline if he wanted that promotion, so the extra hours had been needed, much as he hated it. Thankfully, Ava, his fiancé, had been completely understanding about his job and promised to have dinner ready when he got home. Damn, but he loved her.

Sliding out of the car, Brady took a moment to stretch before snagging his briefcase from the car's trunk and stepping out of the garage, closing the door behind him. He headed for the front door, absently twirling his key ring on one finger before snagging the key to the deadbolt and sliding it into the lock.

The first clue that something was wrong was that there was no unlocking sound. Brady frowned and reached out, turning the door's handle slowly and pushing at the door with his shoulder. The door opened soundlessly.

Ava never left the door unlocked, not after everything that had happened almost three months earlier. Brady swallowed hard and stepped inside, closing the door behind him with an almost silent 'snick'.

"Ava?" he called out softly, looking down at the 'welcome' mat. It wasn't out of place, so a demon couldn't have gotten in, right? "Ava?"

There was no answer and Brady felt his worry increase by leaps and bounds. He set his briefcase next to the front closet and slowly made his way down the hall and into the kitchen, which was where Ava should have been. Only, the kitchen was empty. It was clear, at least, that Ava had at least _started_ making dinner, but neither the oven nor the stovetop were on, the fridge door was closed, and there just didn't seem to be any sign of a struggle or anything like that whatsoever. Brady quickly checked the front room, the dining room, bathroom, and guest room for any signs of something bad, but nothing was out of place.

The master bedroom, unfortunately, was another story.

The bed was still neatly made, but the closet, and more specifically, Ava's clothes were a mess. Brady's heart shot into his chest as he moved closer, noting the skewed hangers and the open boxes that contained Ava's winter gear the one time they'd headed north to go skiing. Brady stumbled back from the closet and looked around, breathing hard. "Ava…"

That's when he saw the open window.

Brady strode across the bedroom, taking in the missing screen and the yellow-ish powder on the windowsill. Brady swallowed hard before leaning close to tentatively sniff at it.

It smelled like rotten eggs. "Sulfur," he whispered, standing upright and stumbling backwards until his legs hit the edge of the bed. He dropped onto it, still breathing hard.

He knew what that smell meant. Those Winchester brother's had been very thorough in their 'demonic protection' lessons with Ava and her best friend Karena, and Brady was no slouch on the subject these days, himself.

Ava was gone, and demons had taken her.

* * *

"Brady, calm down," Sam was saying when Dean entered the room he and Sam were sharing at the Piermont Inn in Connecticut. "You're _sure_ it's sulfur?"

Dean came to a dead stop upon hearing those words. "Sam?"

Sam just held up a hand as he listened to the man on the other end of the line. "Brady, I need you to listen to me." He paused and then smiled slightly. "Okay, now I need you to look around. Are there _any_ signs of an actual break-in? Like broken glass, overturned chairs, missing items? It's okay, Brady, take your time."

He pulled out a sheet of paper and started writing on it. Dean came closer and realized it was details that Brady must be telling him:

-Front door unlocked

-Food half-prepared but not burnt

-No furniture out of place

-Bedroom closet messy; some of Ava's clothes missing?

-Yellow powder on windowsill of open bedroom window; screen missing; powder smells like rotten eggs

The last one made Dean's stomach clench. It had been his understanding that the demons were allowed to so much as _touch_ the special children, and now one was missing? What was going on?

"Okay," Sam sighed as Dean sank into a chair silently, "you're gonna have to report her missing, Brady, but I need you to take pictures of the house before you do and email them to me…" He leaned back in his chair. "We're in Connecticut working a case, otherwise I _swear_ we'd head over straight away, but I promise we'll be there as soon as we can. I'm sorry, Brady."

He ended the call and sighed again, leaning back in his seat. "So the spirit here makes a man hangs himself despite all the hoodoo stuff lying around, and Ava's missing," he said. "I wish I was drunk right now."

Dean snorted. "Not while we're workin' a case, Sammy."

There was a long moment of silence. "What if it's Maggie?" Sam asked slowly.

"What?" Dean asked, blinking and trying to focus.

"Tyler's always talking about Maggie, but we've never seen her." He sat up straighter in his seat. "I haven't let down my shields _once_ to even know for sure."

"It's about as good an idea as any," Dean said, "but we don't even know who this Maggie _is_."

Sam stood. "Try talking to Sherwin," he said. "He's been here for years."

"Okay," Dean said, standing. "What about you?"

"I'm gonna wander again," Sam said, "but this time I'm gonna use the empathy. Lemme know if you learn anything?"

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding as he headed for the door. "See you back here in say, two hours?"

Sam nodded back and they set off in different directions. Dean found Sherwin down in the dining room, closing up the bar. It was easy to get conversation going; old men like Sherwin tended to enjoy talking your ear off, if given half a chance.

Of course, it _would_ be Sam who managed to solve the puzzle.

* * *

"Maggie," Sam called out softly as he neared the doll room. "I know you're here and I'd like to talk to you."

"I don't like adults." Sam turned to see a girl with curly, reddish hair and brown eyes. "They're trying to take Tyler away."

Sam carefully leaned against the wall as he took in Maggie's emotions. "Tyler's mom doesn't want to take Tyler away," he said carefully. "Susan… she just doesn't feel like she has any choice in the matter, even though she grew up here. That's why she's selling the Inn and moving away."

"I don't like it," Maggie told him.

"I know," Sam said softly. "How did all those hoodoo symbols come to be here? You know, the ones on the vases and the urns and stuff?"

Maggie tilted her head to one side. "You gonna send me away, too?"

"No," Sam said at once, "I'm just trying to understand."

There was a long moment of silence before Maggie said anything. "Rosie's nanny was Creole," she said at last. "Taught Rose how to keep me out."

"Rose?" Sam said with a frown. "You mean Tyler's grandmother, the one who's sick?"

Maggie nodded. "She kept me out after I drowned in the pool," she said. "I don't know why she wouldn't let me in, I just wanted to protect her and play with her the way we used to." It was fascinating, the way her emotions kept swinging from one extreme to another. "I was so lonely. Why did she keep me out?"

"You're sisters?" Sam asked.

"I'm her big sister," Maggie said. "She kept me out, but then she got sick and her head — it doesn't work quite right anymore." She stared up at Sam, emotions still going every which way between fear, anger and loneliness. "Why did she keep me out?"

Sam considered the question this time around. It sounded like Rose's nanny had probably feared the idea of letting a spirit wander the Inn freely; maybe she had even thought that Maggie would somehow cause Rose to die and only wanted to protect her in the way she knew best. Sam ran a hand through his hair and met Maggie's eyes with his own.

"She didn't understand," he finally said. "Rose was just doing what her nanny taught her was right. She didn't know you only wanted to be with her, that… that you were lonely." He paused, trying to think of a solution. "You spend time with Tyler because she's your age and she's willing to play with you?"

Maggie nodded. "I don't want her to go."

"So…" Sam's mind was racing, wondering if the sudden idea that flashed through his brain would even work. "What if you could talk to Rose and get her to stay with you, instead?"

"My sister?" Maggie looked genuinely confused.

"You said she's sick," Sam said, "and she's old. She's lived a long time, and I think if she knew the truth, she'd choose to stay."

There was a moment of silence.

"You think so?"

Sam swallowed. "What would you have done if Tyler's mom decided to leave today?"

Maggie's eyes narrowed. "I'd stop her and make sure Tyler never left."

_Never left…_ What were the chances those words meant another drowning in the swimming pool? "Talk to your sister," Sam said, aware that the words almost sounded like a plea. "I know you like Tyler, and I know she likes you, but she's still got her mom."

Maggie stared up at Sam for a long moment, and then she vanished. Sam waited a few minutes before quietly making his way to the door that led to wherever Rose had been secreted away. When he got in there, Rose was slumped over in a wheelchair, and Sam knew at once that she was dead.

Maggie's emotions swirled through the room, mixing with another that Sam realized must be Rose, and he felt the brush of a 'thank you' before it was gone. He went in search of Susan, breaking the news to her that her mother was dead. She hadn't taken the news very well, but at least she had easily accepted Sam's made-up story of how he'd found her.

"It's over," he told Dean the moment he entered the dining room's bar area. Dean looked up and Sam saw Sherwin standing on the other side of the bar. "Rose… she's passed on."

Dean blinked as Sherwin hurried from the room. "Maggie was her sister," Sam told his brother after a moment. "It turns out there was a Creole nanny here, and she taught Rose how to keep Maggie away, but after her stroke…"

"She couldn't hold up the protections anymore," Dean finished for him. "So, she's not gonna kill anyone else?"

"No," Sam said. "She's got her sister to spend eternity with."

Dean frowned and nodded before downing his shot of what Sam thought was probably whiskey. "I guess we're heading out, then?"

"Guess so," Sam said. "I should call Brady, let him know we'll be there tomorrow."

"Yeah," Dean said. "Why would demons take Ava when they're under orders not to touch any of you crazy kids?" he asked as they left the bar.

"I don't know," Sam admitted after a moment's thought. "It doesn't make any sense to me."

They quickly packed up their things and checked out as the coroner showed up. Susan was distracted as she bade them farewell, and minutes later, the Impala was speeding down the moonlit road toward Illinois.

* * *

"Definitely demons," Dean said, staring at the powdery substance on the windowsill of Brady and Ava's bedroom. "You're _sure_ you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary before last night?" he asked Brady, turning to face his slumped form on the bed.

"Nothing," Brady said. "There were no signs. Ava's really careful about letting anyone into the house, I mean, we've got that Devil's Trap thing drawn on the undersides of the doormats and you said the demons were under orders not to touch any of the people like her and Sam." He looked up, eyes bloodshot from a probable night of not sleeping and his dark hair standing on end. "Why would they change their minds?" he asked.

"It could be a demon gone rogue," Sam suggested from over by the closet, "but that doesn't explain why some of Ava's winter gear is missing. Demons don't care about the elements, so if one was possessing her, they wouldn't have done this." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm guessing the cops have no leads of any kind?"

Brady shook his head. "They already swept the place for prints, but there's none that aren't us, family or close friends we check regularly for possession."

"You said the front door was unlocked?" Dean asked after a moment.

Brady nodded. "But the doormats were still in place."

"They could be moved so long as the demon only touched the outmost edges of the mat," Dean said, "but only if the demon even knew they were there, which we don't know for sure." He scrubbed at his face with both hands and let out a heaving sigh. "It stands to reason a demon could have come in through a window —"

"We keep them locked up from fall to spring," Brady cut him off with a shake of his head. "Ava wouldn't just open one on a whim like that."

There was a moment of silence.

"We need to see if there are others who have gone missing like this," Sam said at last, looking pained by the idea.

"Other special children?" Brady asked.

Sam nodded sadly. "If it isn't isolated to just Ava, then it would suggest that Azazel's trying to…" He trailed off.

"You think he might be starting to build up that army Ava told me about." It wasn't a question, but Dean watched Sam nod in response, anyway.

"We'll find her," he told Brady quietly. "I promise."

It was a distraught, but subdued Brady who bade them farewell with the promise that they'd stay in touch. The moment they were back in the Impala, Sam was pulling out his phone and going through his contacts.

"Who you callin'?" Dean asked.

"Ash," Sam said. "I've been emailing him my research, so he could run a search for others, see if any of the others we never contacted are missing, as well."

"Makes sense to me," Dean sighed, starting the engine and pulling out onto the street. He drove in silence as Sam talked with Ash, driving out of Peoria and heading south on a whim.

"Thanks, Ash," Sam said before ending the call. Seconds later, he was dialing again. Dean listened to him check up on both Andy and Danielle before putting his phone away and staring out the passenger window.

"We might not find her," Dean said, voicing what he knew both he and Sam had to be thinking.

"But we might," Sam retorted, though without heat. "I have to believe that we'll find her."

"I know," Dean said quietly.

They didn't say anything else after that.

* * *

_Honestly, I'm not super happy with how this one turned out, but I managed to write it, and good or bad, it's done. We'll see you in the next installment!_


	4. Keep On Runnin'

**Journey**

**Keep On Runnin'**

**So. Writers' Block. It's a bitch. I'm really sorry it's taken me so damn long to get this one out. I had originally planned to write something else before this one, but I struggled with it and I had to keep stopping and working on other things. This one was finished nearly a week ago, but I kept working on the one I wanted to post before it, only it just wouldn't work with me, so I had to scrap it. I don't think the giant break will be happening again. I hope. Anyway, spoilers for 2.12 "Nightshifter", 2.13 "Houses of the Holy" (in passing), and 2.14 "Born Under a Bad Sign". There are also mentions of that little fact from 6.04 "Weekend At Bobby's". My OC demons Tara and Derrick also make an appearance. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam was breathing hard as he reached the Impala, the puffs of breath he released fogging up before him in the frigid January air. "Hold on," he said breathlessly. "Dean, we made it."

Dean gasped, one hand clutching at the front of Sam's stolen SWAT team uniform while the other pressed tightly against the bloody shirt Sam had shoved against his lower abdomen earlier. "Car?"

"Yes," Sam said. "Car. You with me?"

He leaned Dean against the passenger side of the car and pulled open the door, thankful they'd left them unlocked.

"Yeah," Dean managed after a moment. "Shifter?"

"Dead," Sam said, grabbing Dean by the shoulders and manhandling him into the car. "How's your gut?"

"Feels like a stab wound," Dean ground out sarcastically, body tensed up until he was fully seated before relaxing fully, hand still holding the shirt to his stomach.

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I don't think we were followed, but we're gonna have to change plates again."

"Terrific," Dean groaned. "I tell you… 'bout the FBI guy on the phone… n'how he's tracking us?" he asked between pants.

"Did I tell _you_ that the Jedi mind thing doesn't work on shifters?"

Dean scrunched his eyes shut and made a face. "Fuckin' _awesome_," he grumbled. "Let's go, man."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Keep with the pressure there."

Dean shot Sam a look.

"Right, going." Sam stepped back and slammed the door shut before hurrying around to the other side of the car. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine. "We are so screwed," he remarked, backing out the parking spot and making his way out of the parking garage.

Dean gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, Sam, we are." There were a few minutes of silence as they drove away from Milwaukee. "We need… place to stop —" He cut off with a groan.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, hang on, Dean." It took ten minutes before Sam found an abandoned building sufficient enough for them to stop. He made sure the car was secluded enough before going for the trunk and pulling out the first-aid kit. Next, he went back to the passenger-side door and opened it, helping Dean out and practically lugging him into the building.

He managed to find a table to lay Dean out on and set up the kit before he quickly set to work.

"I'm pretty sure it didn't hit anything vital," Sam murmured as he cleaned the wound.

"Good," Dean sighed. "Gimme whiskey, now."

Sam rolled his eyes, but handed it over. "I'll stitch you up, but we need to get back on the road ASAP."

Dean groaned, nodded and took a long swig of the whiskey. "Stitch away, bitch."

"Jerk." Once Dean's stab wound was completely bandaged, they hit the road again and didn't stop for anything until they reached Ohio early the next morning and found new plates to switch out. Then Sam found them a motel, got Dean settled in, and went out on foot to find breakfast.

There was a diner across the street, and on a corner about thirty feet from the diner was a bum on a bench at a bus stop. Sam wasn't sure why, but there was something about the bum that set him on edge. He did his best to ignore him, but as he passed, the bum spoke.

"Got any spare cash?"

"No," Sam said shortly. "Sorry." He took two more steps before the bum made a choking noise followed by a scream.

Sam whirled around, senses telling him to _run _but it was too late. He had no protection against demonic possession (_what an idiot I am,_ he thought to himself), and no way to stop the black smoke that shot out of the bum from cramming itself down his throat.

Everything was pain, and then there was nothing.

* * *

Dean woke up the next morning, feeling a little hung-over, and a lot in pain. "Sammy?" he called out, voice rough from sleep.

There was no answer.

"Sam!" Dean called again, forcing himself to sit up and look around. He was lying on the bed furthest from the door. The bathroom door was wide open, the lights all off. The first-aid kit lay on the other bed. Sam's bed, and it was still perfectly made-up. It was clear that Sam had at least _been_ in the room, but there was no evidence that he was still around.

"Sammy!" Dean let out a loud groan as he managed to stand, one hand pressed to his gut. It looked like Sam had dropped Dean off and then left.

Dean spotted his jacket by the side of his bed and fumbled through the pockets until he found his cell phone. He dialed Sam's number and fidgeted as it rang.

"_This is Sam, leave me a message."_

Dean closed his eyes. "Sam, it's me, call me back." He flipped his phone shut and tossed it on the unused bed. "Shit."

The bottle of whiskey was on the nightstand, and Dean snagged it without thought, taking off the lid and gulping down several swallows. Sam wasn't the type of person to take off in the middle of the night without reason, especially when Dean was injured. Hadn't he said something about getting food?

Dean made his way over to the window and looked out, feeling a swirl of positive and negative emotions when he realized the Impala was still there.

Sam was gone.

"Where are you, Sam?" Dean murmured, stepping back from the window and dropping onto the nearest chair, trying desperately to make his brain work properly before he flew into a full-out panic attack. He sat there for a few minutes before it occurred to him that he should call Bobby for help.

He forced himself to rise once again and retrieved his cell phone from the bed before dialing Bobby's number.

"Dean? That you?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed, sinking back onto his bed. "Sam's missing."

"What?"

"That job in Milwaukee I told you about? It was a shapeshifter…" He sighed. "And we killed it, but things went south, anyway."

"What happened?"

Dean lifted his shirt to see the bandage Sam had placed on his abdomen after stitching him up. "Well, this guy decided he had to stop the mandroid himself."

"Mandroid?" Bobby echoed in confusion.

"The shifter," Dean explained with a roll of his eyes. "This guy, Ron, he spotted the eye flash-thing on a security camera, figured it must be something like a freakin' Terminator, and he thought he could stop it himself. I talked him out of it — well, I _thought_ I talked him out of it, but he showed up at the shifter's next target, this bank, and he took it hostage."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope," Dean said, shaking his head and reaching for the whiskey again. "Sam made him stand down after that, but the cops showed up and surrounded the building, and then the FBI showed up after I had to escort this old security guard out of the building for medical attention — heart attack or somethin' —" He broke off to take another swig of the whiskey "— and it turns out there's this guy from the Feds, an Agent Henricksen, and it's his job to find me and Sam."

"To find you," Bobby said flatly. "Does this have to do with Baltimore?"

"And St. Louis," Dean said dryly. "Apparently Sam's the Bonnie to my Clyde." He snorted. "Anyway, Ron got taken out by a sniper, and this shifter — it was faster at changing forms than the last one we faced, so it was hard to pin down, even with Sam's abilities."

"That sounds bad," said Bobby.

"Yeah," Dean mumbled. "Long story short, the shifter stabbed me in the gut, and Sam ended up killing it, dressing us up like members of the SWAT team that stormed the bank, and driving us outta town. He stitched me up, got us into this little motel somewhere in Ohio, I think, and then he said he was gonna find food, but —" Dean broke off and rubbed his hand across his mouth roughly. "That was early this morning, and it's almost three. The Impala's parked outside our room, and Sam's bed hasn't even been slept in. He's just — he's gone, Bobby."

"You tried talkin' to anyone yet?" Bobby asked.

"No," Dean said with a sigh, "I'm still a little out of it, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," Bobby said, voice sympathetic. "You need to head outside, see if anyone remembers seein' him, figure out where you are, and then you _call_ me, you got that?"

"I got it," Dean said. "Thanks."

"Just lemme know when you get any leads on your brother," Bobby said, voice gruff in that way that meant he was _very_ concerned but didn't want to show it. Dean ended the call and took another swig of the whiskey before heading outside the motel room and beginning his search for Sam.

* * *

It was black at first. Sam wasn't certain of anything. Hell, he couldn't even _move_, but his body was moving, anyway — wait, it was moving? Sam felt a flash of confusion, and then the memories came flooding back.

_No._

"Yes, Sammy," he heard himself say. "I've been watching for awhile, and I gotta say, you're different these days!"

_Who are you?_

"Me?" His laughter didn't sound or feel right. "After everything we've been through together? I'm appalled you don't remember me."

Sam became aware of his eyesight, and was surprised to find himself in front of a mirror. It was him, but his eyes were black, and the smile on his face… Fuck, he had seen that smile before, but on the face of a girl with short, blonde hair…

_Meg?_

"I'm you now," his voice said in confirmation. "We're gonna have _so much fun_, Sammy, I mean, the number of kills I've got planned…" Sam watched as Meg shook his head with the same wrong grin on his face before turning away.

Sam didn't recognize the motel room he was in. He struggled, but then he had to stop because he was flooded with pain so intense it was almost like the days he had spent detoxing from his demon blood addiction —

"You know," Meg said thoughtfully, "I never thought you'd gain access to so many of these abilities of yours, like the super strength and telekinesis. I mean, damn, Sammy, you're just as awesome as a demon these days! And this other stuff?" Meg chuckled. "I'm gonna have a ball, learning what things you can do, now."

Sam tried to push, struggle, _anything,_ but then he was flooded with pain again and had to relent once more.

"You're not gonna get me outta here," Meg said after a moment. Sam watched as his right arm lifted up, the left hand reaching out to pull up the sleeve of one of his shirts.

_What the —?_

"It's a binding link," Meg explained as they both stared at the symbol burned into the flesh of his forearm. "Locks me right in."

_No…_

"Yes," Meg said. "You're mine for as long as I please, Sam, and I plan on staying put for a very, _very_ long time…" Meg started laughing and then Sam was shoved away from everything and into a corner of his own mind.

* * *

Tara stood up from her desk and stretched, feeling a rush of relief over knowing that she had finally completed her research. She now knew where the Devil's Gate was, as well as how to access it properly and break through the iron keeping it locked away from demon hands.

"Tara?" It was Derrick, and he looked a little unsettled.

"Hey," Tara said, lowering her arms. "What's up?"

Derrick twisted his lips and glanced away for a moment. "Meg's topside," he said, expression sour.

"So?" Tara said with a shrug. She could care less about that failure.

"So," Derrick said, "she's not following orders."

Tara frowned. "What does that mean?"

Derrick sighed. "It means," he said, "that she tracked down the Winchesters and jumped Sam in Ohio."

"Fuck," Tara groaned, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. "What was she _thinking_?" she asked rhetorically. "Azazel's orders were clear that none of us can _touch_ those two until it's time for Sam to join the competition, and that's not happening for another three months, at least."

Derrick shrugged. "I don't think she cares about Azazel's Deal with John, no matter how specific it was."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Anyone figured out where Meg's gone off to, yet?" she asked after a moment.

Derrick shook his head. "I've got five guys out searching, but…"

Tara scowled. "Knowing that bitch, she'll be tormenting Dean with the knowledge that his brother's just _gone_," she muttered. "And then she'll let Dean find her and… then what? What's her thinking?"

"Revenge," Derrick said simply. "Sam may have performed the actual exorcism that sent her downstairs, but we know that Dean took full responsibility. She'll taunt him, try to get him to kill Sam, and when he refuses, she'll kill him and run away in Sam's body until she tires of him and dumps him in a ditch."

Like it or not, that sounded like the kind of thing Meg would do. Tara ran a hand through her dark hair. "I guess I'm gonna have to go find her, then," she said. "Let Azazel know, would you?"

Derrick nodded. "Stay safe," he said. "Meg's gonna use every last bit of Sam's abilities against you the moment you try anything."

"I can take that bitch," Tara growled. "No one messes with our father's plans." She snagged her jacket from her chair and strode from the room, determined to take Meg down a peg or two.

* * *

Two hours later, Dean had to admit defeat. The receptionist was someone different, no one at the diner had seen his brother, and the bum on the bus bench? He was too busy rambling on about how _angels_ of all things had saved him from his sins.

Angels didn't exist, so that was another crazy, but thoroughly dead end.

It also didn't help that Dean's stomach was still hurting something fierce from being stabbed and stitched up, so his temper had a shorter fuse than normal. It was unlikely that law enforcement had found Sam and taken him, so that only left the supernatural. The question was, what took him?

"Where are you, Sammy?" Dean muttered to himself as he returned to his room, pulling out his cell and staring to go through his list of contacts.

Ellen and Ash promised to stay on the lookout.

Jo was in Rhode Island working a job that could _possibly_ be angels ("I'm pretty sure it's just the confused spirit of a priest, though"), but she said she'd keep her eyes open.

Andy hadn't seen Sam, but hoped that Dean found him safely.

Danielle hadn't come across anything, either, but she swore she'd keep her shields down as much as possible and call the moment she found out anything.

Dean even tried calling Brady Walker, and that conversation was incredibly awkward given that no signs of Ava had turned up. In truth, Dean hadn't been thinking about the girl for a few weeks and he felt a little guilty that the girl had vanished, leaving behind her fiancé to deal with the fallout. Regardless, his main priority at the moment had to be Sam, so he suffered through the conversation before trying a few other contacts.

Seven days later, Dean still hadn't found Sam.

* * *

It was like an endless torrent of pain.

Sam wasn't aware of what was going on most of the time because of the pain-filled corner of his mind he lived in nowadays, but the few times Meg had let him surface from _that_ source of pain to a painful state of awareness, he hadn't liked what he saw, at all.

Meg liked getting into bar fights and using Sam's strength as an unfair advantage to beat her opponents to a bloody pulp. She even made use of his mind control, forcing best friends to brawl it out until one or the other was dead. Once, she even went so far as to dredge up the electrokinesis and then proceeded to fry a cop to death in a shadowy alleyway.

It kinda felt like she was breaking his brain into pieces, especially when he realized she had ripped his mental shields to bits, allowing the emotions of everyone around him to constantly bombard him. If Sam ever got out of this, he was going to be a complete mess.

One of the worst things Meg forced Sam to watch, however, was the night she went to the house of a Hunter she called Steve Wandell. Meg took pleasure in holding the older man down while she slit his throat, making Sam watch as the life bled out of the older Hunter. Sam felt her grin before she left the house.

And then came the worst thing.

"I think," Meg announced after climbing into their current motel room through the window, "that it's time to involve Dean."

_No,_ Sam shouted in his mind. _No! Leave him alone!_

But Meg was pulling out his phone, turning it on, and then scrolling through the contacts. Sam watched as Dean's name was selected, and then Meg shoved him back into the corner of his mind where he knew only pain.

It was incredibly hard to think. Sam had tried on numerous occasions to at least take _control_ of his body back from the demon since he couldn't get her out, but Meg only used his own abilities against him. She continued to let the emotions of everyone around him constantly bear down on him. She accessed his memories from when he had been purging the demon blood from his system and flooded him with every painful moment and every hallucination. Sam only felt grateful that Dean wasn't a part of those moments, even though he had to listen to his father tell him over and over what a failure he was.

There was no escaping this torment, and Sam found himself wishing that it would end, one way or another. He couldn't keep this up for much longer before it could become too much.

He could only hope that Meg tired of wearing him before that happened.

* * *

"Sammy?" Dean couldn't believe it after over a week of nothing. "Where the hell are you? Are you okay?"

"Dean, I —" Sam sounded confused and a little out of it. "I don't know what's going on but I just woke up in this room and I couldn't find you or the car and I don't know where you are —"

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you?"

"The uh, the key says room 109 at the Hillside Motel in Twin Lakes, Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin?" Dean frowned. "All right, don't move. I'm on my way." Dean snapped his phone shut and turned to get in his car, only to freeze at the sight of a demon he'd hoped to never see again until the day he had the Colt to kill him.

"Heya, Dean." Azazel's grin wasn't a happy one.

"What d'you want?" Dean asked shortly, shoulders tense with the knowledge that without Sam, he had no way of knowing if there were other demons nearby.

Azazel leaned against the driver's side door of the Impala, and Dean had to bite his tongue before he could say something that might get him into trouble.

"I'm lookin' for your brother."

Dean glared. "Why?"

Azazel shrugged. "It has to do with the demon that decided to jump his bones and wreak havoc."

_That_ got Dean's attention. "What?"

"How's your stab wound healing up?"

"It's fine," Dean snapped. "How do you know that a demon's got Sam?"

"It's my business to know," Azazel answered. "Sam's pretty important to me."

Dean had to bite his tongue again.

"It's Meg," Azazel went on, "she climbed outta the Pit and, near as we can tell, tracked you both for close to a month before she made her move." Dean clenched his jaw. "She's locked herself in Sam's body with a binding link, so even if he managed to overpower her — which I'm pretty sure he hasn't — he wouldn't be able to force her out. And I'm pretty sure she's gonna use him to kill you."

Dean closed his eyes. "Terrific."

"What I need," Azazel said slowly, "is Sam's location. Where did he say he was?"

Dean sighed and scrubbed his face. "Twin Lakes, Wisconsin at the Hillside Motel." Azazel turned to walk away. "Wait!" Dean said, moving closer, and Azazel turned back. "Why do you even care? I could've figured it out on my own."

"Terms of my Deal with your daddy," Azazel said.

"Deal?" Dean frowned. Both he and Sam knew what was entailed in the making of a Deal with a demon, but none of that had happened back in L.A.

"You think we didn't kiss on it?" Azazel asked, raising his eyebrows, and Dean had to stop from shuddering at the thought. "I waited until that third day before arranging all the details and sealing the Deal."

Dean swallowed and looked away. "What were the terms of your Deal?" he asked quietly.

"No demons touch you or your brother," Azazel stated calmly.

Dean stared at Azazel in confusion. "But one of them captured Sam about four, five months ago."

Azazel nodded. "I killed him for it."

Dean blinked. "What?"

"Also terms of my Deal with your daddy," Azazel explained. "Any demons touches you or Sam before my plans call for it, and I kill them. Meg's dead for what she's done." He turned away again. "I should have Meg outta your brother by the time you reach Twin Lakes, but I can't say anything for what condition you might find him in. We aren't entirely certain what she's been up to." A moment later, he vanished, leaving Dean alone once again.

* * *

"Meg."

Meg narrowed her eyes before turning to look at the window in her current motel room. She instantly recognized the figure standing in front of it.

"Tara," she said, using Sam's easy grin as she stood and wiped her bloody hands on Sam's shirt. "It's been awhile."

"It has," Tara said. "You're a hard one to find, the way you keep on runnin'."

Meg shrugged. "Can't say I was interested in being found," she said. "How's our father doing?"

"He's doing well," Tara said. "You're not supposed to be possessing him," she added with a nod at Sam's body.

"Sam?" Meg's grin turned hard. "I know, but I really couldn't resist. He's developed quite nicely since I saw him last. The demon blood and torture thing really suits him."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Azazel's Deal with John Winchester was that no one was to touch Sam or Dean in any way until it was time for Sam to join the competition. You're only going to get yourself killed by doing this."

"Only if you guys can find my bones," Meg taunted smugly. "Which you won't."

Tara narrowed her blue eyes. "Leave Sam now," she said, voice firm.

Meg started laughing. "You're not as strong as me," she told Tara. "And I've got all of Sam's powers on my side. You don't stand a chance."

The fight didn't last long. Tara was knocked out by a super-powered punch and then Meg cut the bitch's arm with her spare knife. After all, what demon would pass up the chance to perform an exorcism with their brain?

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Meg raised her head and was startled to see Azazel himself standing by the now-closed window. Sam's ability to sense demons wasn't working right because of her continued presence in his skin, so her own natural talent to sense her father was thrown off as a result, as well. Rising slowly, Meg backed away, her knife clutched tightly in her left hand.

"What," she snapped, "Tara tracking me wasn't good enough? Why are you here?"

Azazel raised his eyebrows. "Since when do you get to talk to me like that?"

"You let me go back!" Meg yelled. "You let them send me back into the fucking Pit _to rot_, so I'll talk to you however I damn well please."

"You failed," Azazel said with a careless shrug that only served to make Meg angrier. "You _failed_ to use Sam and Dean as proper bait when I asked you to get John out of the way. You _failed_ to bring me the Colt when you brought me John to use as bait for his sons." His yellow eyes were blazing now. "You _failed_ to realize that Hunters like Bobby Singer _cover_ their homes with Devil's Traps when it was a demonic possession that got them into the business in the first place. You have no one to blame for what happened to you but _yourself_, Meg."

Meg clenched her jaw. "Well, it doesn't matter now," she finally said. "I'm _done_ following your orders, and I don't give a rat's ass about your master plan, either. Sam's mine, and I'm not giving him up until I'm good and ready."

Azazel's yellow eyes narrowed. "I'm not giving you a choice in the matter," he said. "You are leaving Sam's body whether you like it or not."

It suddenly occurred to Meg that she hadn't noticed a single emotion from Tara before knocking her out. She wished she'd paid better attention as the girl's blue eyes snapped open and she leapt to her feet, bowling straight into her and knocking her flat on her back. A moment later, Tara pulled out a knife of her own and slashed through the binding link she'd burned onto Sam's arm.

Meg only had a split-second to think before she forced her way from Sam and zoomed towards the small space between the motel room's door and the floor below it. She wasn't going to die, not today.

She snagged the first person she came across (a young woman with brown hair and blue eyes like Tara's host, but shorter) and ran for her life. Azazel wouldn't be able to find her bones, but she couldn't seen while he was still alive.

For the first time, Meg hoped that Sam and Dean would be able to kill Azazel when they finally got the chance. Otherwise, she would have to spend the rest of her existence as a fugitive, and that just wouldn't do.

* * *

When Dean arrived in Twin Lakes and found the motel, his heart was pounding as he thought about what condition he might find his brother in. Was Sam even alive? Who knew what that bitch had been up to while wearing his skin? Dean parked the Impala a little haphazardly, but found he couldn't care for once, instead focusing on heading inside the motel and finding the right room.

The door to room 109 was slightly ajar, and Dean had to force himself to breathe, to _focus_, before he pushed it open and stepped inside, afraid of what he might find. _Sam's okay,_ he insisted to himself before he looked up.

Azazel and Tara were both in the room, Azazel on the one chair and Tara on the bed closest to the door. Sam was on the other bed, eyes closed. Dean didn't know if he was just unconscious or worse.

"Sam?" he breathed, starting to move forward when Azazel rose and blocked his path. "Move outta my way," Dean snarled at the demon.

"We gotta talk first," Azazel told him with a small smirk. "Tara, you got all the information from him that you could?"

Tara nodded and rose, walking over to Sam's body and reaching into his jacket pocket. Dean saw her pull out a key before she tucked into the pocket of her jeans. "I'll go clean it all up," she said, and then she headed past Dean and out of the motel room, leaving him with Azazel.

"Clean up what?" Dean barked.

"Meg's mess," Azazel answered, gesturing to Sam. Dean took a closer look at his brother and was shocked to see blood on his shirt and hands.

"What the —?"

"Most of it isn't his," Azazel said dismissively. "It's a Hunter's."

"Meg killed a Hunter?"

"Yep," Azazel said. "Name of Steve Wandell. Paranoid sonuvabitch, too, lotsa security cameras."

"And Tara's gonna clean up the evidence?"

Azazel nodded. "Last thing I need is a bunch of trigger-happy Hunters blaming your brother and killin' him because they're too enraged to listen to reason."

Dean sighed. He hated this, but he couldn't help but feel grateful that Azazel was cleaning up. "How much do you care about the others?" he asked.

"The other crazy kids I created?" Azazel grinned. "It's fun to watch the rest of them flounder. Occasionally I'll do something to help out here and there, but mostly I just like to watch. Andy's brother was a nutjob, so he clearly wasn't strong enough to handle what I've got planned, and neither was Max."

"What about Scott Carey?"

Azazel shrugged. "Unfortunate situation," was all he said.

Dean stared at Azazel. "Then what about Danielle? Did you really send a demon to kill her husband?"

Azazel's grin came back in full force. "I like Danielle," he said. "She's got spirit and a pretty good temper." He frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "Killing her husband was… necessary."

"Necessary?" Dean swallowed, remembering what the demon that had possessed Danielle's father had said about Jared's death.

"Her anger rivals Sam's in a lot of ways," Azazel said with a shrug. "Religious and angry is a fascinating combination, wouldn't you agree?"

"Religious?"

Azazel chuckled. "Surely you know that Sam still prays every day. So does Danielle." He inhaled and nodded happily. "Two peas in a pod, Dean, and I like 'em both."

Dean scowled at the yellow-eyed demon silently.

"Anyway," Azazel said, "Danielle's a strong one, and right now, Sam's gonna need her. You'll send her my best when you go and see her?"

Dean frowned. "Why would we —?"

"Sam's a mess," Azazel cut him off, face suddenly way too serious. "Meg fucked with his abilities, tore apart his mental shields, and tormented him in every way she could think of that didn't involve damaging his body. Well, beyond the binding link she burned into his skin and the odd bar fight, anyway."

Dean looked around Azazel and saw that Sam's right forearm was bandaged.

"Danielle's the best one to give Sammy the help he'll need," Azazel told Dean. "Let her. Sam's my prize horse, and you and Danielle are best equipped to fix him up."

Dean tensed, not liking any of this, but understanding, anyway. "Fine," he bit out. "Now, d'you mind leavin'?"

Azazel chuckled. "Whatever you want, Dean." He made his way around Dean and over to the still-open door. "I've got big things planned for your brother," he said over his shoulder. "Don't disappoint me by taking him out of the game now." He shut the door behind him, and Dean stared at it before rushing over to Sam's side.

"Sammy?" He gently shook Sam's shoulder.

Sam groaned and his forehead scrunched up.

"Sam, c'mon," Dean muttered, sitting down on the bed. "Wake up for me."

Dean watched as Sam moved his head from side to side, grimacing before his eyelids fluttered open.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft and grated.

"Yeah," Dean said, "it's me. How you feelin'?"

Sam groaned again and closed his eyes, slowly raising his hands to his face and pressing against his forehead. "Like I got… hit by a continent," he grunted. "Where's — what happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam opened his eyes and squinted up at Dean. "Meg," he said before his eyes went wide and he shot up on the bed only to drop back down a moment later, looking dizzy and in a fair amount of pain. "God, Dean, she said she was gonna —" He broke off and pressed his hands harder against his head, squeezing his eyes shut again. "I don't feel good," he gasped out, and Dean's concern went up another notch. Sam winced. "My shields — Dean, I can't —"

"I know," Dean whispered, tamping down on his emotions. "I'm told she ripped up your mind pretty good."

"Told?" Sam echoed. "Dean…" He trailed off and squinted up at Dean again.

Dean sighed. "Azazel and Tara were both here," he admitted quietly. "Judging by everything I heard, Tara read your mind or something and headed out to clean up Meg's mess."

Sam closed his eyes again and turned his head away. "She killed a Hunter."

"So I heard," Dean said, suppressing another sigh. "No one's gonna suspect you, Sam, I promise."

"She made me watch," Sam said, voice barely audible. Dean closed his own eyes.

"D'you feel up to traveling?" he asked after a moment. "You're gonna need Dani's help, and we're in Wisconsin."

Sam's eyes snapped open and he turned back to Dean. "But — Milwaukee —"

"It's been over a week, Sam," Dean said. "I don't think they'd expect us nearby anytime soon, but we still need to shag ass and get out as soon as possible. Now, you think you can sit up?"

Sam nodded his head slightly and slowly pushed himself back upright, arms shaking. "Meg didn't eat much," he said softly. "She preferred drinking and making people get into deadly bar fights."

Dean's breath caught before he managed to swallow. "Well, that's not gonna happen again anytime soon," he said, reaching out and squeezing Sam's shoulder. "C'mon, let's get outta here. You've said you don't really feel the emotions of others when we're out on the road, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed before raising his right arm to look at the bandage. "She liked using my memories against me," he told Dean, still staring at the bandage. "Every time I tried to so much as make her just _stop_, she'd just make me remember the pain, and there was no way I could get her out." He reached out with his other hand towards the bandage.

"Leave it," Dean said, quickly reaching out to stop Sam from pulling off the bandage. "I'll check it later. Can you stand?"

Sam swallowed and pushed off the bed. The moment he was upright he started to sway and his face went pale. Dean grabbed his arms and forced him back down.

"Okay, you know what? Let's get you some food, first, and _then_ we'll think about moving."

Sam's shoulders slumped as he looked up at Dean, but he nodded. Dean quickly found a take-out menu on the nightstand and called in an order to a nearby restaurant. The delivery came about forty minutes later, and once Sam had had his fill, they checked out and drove out of Twin Lakes, heading west. Sam dropped off to sleep pretty quickly, and Dean felt himself relax for the first time since the job in Milwaukee.

Glancing over at Sam's slack face, Dean found he was able to smile. _We keep on runnin'_, he thought to himself as he eyed a highway patrolman going in the opposite direction. _We just gotta stay together and it'll be okay. _He returned his attention to the road before him and pressed down on the gas harder, zooming off into the dying light of the sunset before him.


	5. Live and Breathe

**Journey**

**Live and Breathe**

**So, this one-shot is a continuation of the last one (Sam needs to recover with Danielle's help), but it's a little more character-oriented than plot-oriented, mainly in that we learn more about Danielle through the eyes of her best friend, Roxanne "Roxy" Parker. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Okay, if we split it three ways, then that's gonna be around two-fifty each, yeah?"

Roxanne Parker nodded as she opened the employee entrance door and she and Danielle Young stepped out into the frigid January night. "Yeah," she said. "Makes it a little easier on you and me, doesn't it?"

"It does," Danielle agreed, tugging her bright blue beanie more firmly onto her head. "Are you sure she'll be fine having me around? I know I didn't give her the best first impression."

"Taryn loves you," Roxy reassured her best friend, shoving her dark-colored hands into her pockets, "and she totally understand that you were grieving. Of course, it could help if you told her exactly _why_ it was so horrible for you —"

"You really think Taryn's gonna believe me when I say demons did it?" Danielle asked dryly. "It took _you_ three days to believe me."

"I know," Roxy said, "but no one believes in stuff like that these days. You're lucky I'm the best friend ever."

"I _am_ lucky," Danielle said. Roxy grinned and pulled one hand out of her pocket, snagging Danielle's hand and pulling the other girl closer. She and Danielle were as close as sisters, maybe even closer. They had only started renting a small house in Provo two weeks before Christmas, but things were going so well with Roxy and Taryn that the girlfriend was going to be moving in at the end of the month.

Just then, Danielle's phone started ringing and she pulled it out, staring at the screen for less than a second before she answered. "Dean? Did you find Sam?"

One thing that irked Roxy slightly was that Danielle didn't tell her a lot of things anymore when she had once told her everything. For example, when had Sam gone missing?

Danielle suddenly met her eyes and mouthed 'sorry' before returning her attention to her cell phone. "A demon? How is he?"

Roxy watched Danielle's face as it became more concerned. "Completely gone? Like, he can't just rebuild them himself?" She had pressed her lips together tightly. "He said that? God…" Danielle dropped her head back with a groan, tightening her grip on Roxy's hand. "Yeah, I can help him. How long —? Well, please don't overtax yourself, Dean, it takes more than a week for a stab wound to heal… I'd expect you to know that after twenty-odd years of Hunting. Please, just take it easy for Sam's sake. You _know_ he'd want you to take care of yourself, too. Okay, call me when you're close. Take care." She shut her cell phone and turned to Roxy.

"Well?" Roxy asked with raised eyebrows. "What's been going on?"

"A demon grabbed Sam a week ago and possessed him," Danielle said with a sigh. "Dean only just found him, but he's in bad shape."

"Bad shape how?" Roxy asked.

Danielle scowled slightly. "The demon ripped his mental shields to shreds and put him through a lot of mental pain."

"The mental shields you taught him to put up?" Roxy clarified. "Sorry, I'm still trying to keep this all straight."

"It's fine," Danielle said with a small smile, "and yeah, those shields. I'm gonna have to help him put it all back together."

"Anything I can do to help?" Roxy asked. "Are we gonna let them crash at our place?"

"You wouldn't mind if they did?" Danielle asked.

"Not a bit," Roxy said. "It took you almost a month last time to help Sam, right? I think they'd appreciate staying somewhere that doesn't charge by the night."

Danielle grinned. "I bet you they'd try to contribute to the rent, anyway."

Roxy shrugged. "I'm cool with it. It'll be hard enough to make rent this month, anyway."

Danielle laughed and the two girls headed over to her car.

* * *

_It's first grade, and some mothers decide that they want to form a new Girl Scout troop. Roxy's a girly-girl, but she loves riding horses and she already knows a lot of knot-tying stuff from her older brother._

_Danielle's in the room with her mom, eyeing everyone silently like she doesn't know whether or not she even likes any of them yet. Roxy can't really blame her. All the other girls are in her class with Miss Jennings, while Danielle has Mrs. Barlow down the hall. She's seen Danielle at recess, and she knows the girl likes to play and run around, has seen her playing on the see-saw with a blonde girl named Kristen while chatting animatedly to others in their class. But now, Danielle looks withdrawn and uncertain, standing close to her mother._

_Roxy can't help but want to make her feel welcome. After all, she remembers being the odd one out a year ago when her family first moved to Provo. There aren't many black families in this area, so the other kids spent the first week or two staring at her with fascination before they got over it. "Hi," she says, walking up to Danielle. "I'm Roxanne."_

"_I'm Danielle," Danielle says, sticking her hand out. Roxy smiles and reached out to shake it._

"_I've seen you at recess," she tells Danielle. "You like to play a lot."_

_Danielle smiles back, and Roxy can see that she's missing one of her front teeth. "You and Teresa" — she nods her head at Roxy's best friend — "like to sit under the trees."_

"_I hate running," Roxy says with a shrug. Danielle grins._

"_You wanna know something?" Roxy nods. "So do I, but Kristen hates dancing."_

"_You dance?" Roxy's mom asks._

"_She's amazing," says Danielle's mom. "She's started learning to play the piano this year, too, and I gotta say, she's got talent."_

"_I play the piano, too!" Roxy announces, and Danielle's grin gets bigger._

_They aren't as close as Roxy is with Teresa, but it's the start of a long-lasting friendship that will come to mean so much more in the future._

* * *

Nearly two days later, a shiny black car pulled up in front of the house. Roxy stood in the doorway as Danielle ran out to the car, pulling the first one out of the car into a tight hug. Judging by the short hair and leather jacket, Roxy was pretty sure that that one was Dean.

"You didn't wear yourself out, right?" Danielle asked Dean as he shut the door on his side of the car.

"You know me," Dean said with a grin that only looked a little forced. In fact, Roxy could see that he'd been pretty tense when he'd stepped out of the car, but less than a minute in Danielle's presence and he was already looking more at ease. "Drove non-stop the whole way."

"The sad thing is I completely believe it," Danielle said dryly as the younger brother slowly emerged from the car. Roxy could immediately tell that he was at least as tall as Jared had been, if not taller. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey," Sam said softly as Danielle threw her arms around him, and Roxy watched as his face went from pained to relieved and calm in less than a second. Roxy could tell that Danielle hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that Sam could draw upon her mental shields to protect his own mind. Danielle stepped back, tightly holding Sam's large hand in her much smaller one as she guided him toward the front door.

"Okay, so we've only got a bed in the spare bedroom so far, but Roxy put fresh sheets in the dryer about an hour ago, so we should have those for you soon." Danielle looked over her shoulder at Dean. "You two are capable of sharing a bed, right? Cause lemme tell you, I'd hate to sleep on our couch, it's way too small for either of you."

"What size is the bed?" Dean asked as they reached the front door. Roxy stood back to let them through.

"Queen," Danielle answered quickly. "Honestly, it's the bed Jared and I used to share, and he could just fit on it if he slept with his head about two inches away from the headboard."

"Your old bed?" Dean's face had a flash of sorrow. "Dani, you really don't have to do this, we can always find a motel —"

"I insist," Danielle cut him off. "I can't sleep on it anymore, it's too big, you know?"

Roxy watched as Dean's face settled into a sad acceptance.

"Anyway," Danielle said, her now-bright tone sounding a tad forced as she and Sam sat down on the couch, "it's a good bed, so if you can stand to share…"

"We'll be fine," Sam said, smiling at Danielle. "We've done it before."

"Not since you were a small-fry," Dean mumbled with a roll of his eyes, starting when he caught sight of Roxy. "Dani, you never said your best friend was hot." Roxy burst into laughter.

"I've already got a girlfriend," she said. "Sorry, lover boy."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can find other willing ladies elsewhere."

"Come to school tomorrow," Roxy told him, "and I guarantee all the single ladies'll be all over you."

Sam snorted. "Sounds like the perfect distraction, Dean. I haven't noticed you getting any action since before Connecticut."

"You pay attention to that?" Roxy asked dubiously.

"You spend all your time with someone, you notice stuff like that," Danielle said. "Roxy's girl is over here almost every night, and I can say that they get it goin' _a lot._"

Roxy blushed, snatched a pillow from a nearby chair and chucked right at Danielle's face, but it stopped about two inches away. "Wha…?"

"Telekinesis," Sam spoke up.

"I told you about that, remember?" Danielle said with a grin. Roxy rolled her eyes.

"Cheater," she mumbled, and Dean chuckled. Roxy decided then and there that she liked Sam and Dean a lot, and she could see how they managed to help Danielle come out of her shell again. They were definitely good guys.

* * *

_It's sixth grade. Roxy doesn't go to Girl Scouts anymore, so she and Danielle don't see each other, especially since Danielle had to start attending a new elementary school the year before. Roxy's family has never been LDS, nor have they ever shown an interest in converting. There's a new girl named Lily Hansen who's moved into town with her mother, and they're both Lutheran, while Roxy's family is Catholic. Teresa and some of their other friends start making fun of Lily for being different from them, for not being LDS during lunch about a month after she starts going to their school._

"_Not everyone has to be Mormon," Roxy speaks up._

"_That's right," says Teresa, "you're not a member of the Church, either." There's something different in her eyes today, something that Roxy doesn't like, and she suddenly wonders if their friendship over the last six years has meant anything to her or not._

_Apparently, it doesn't._

_By the end of that lunch period at school, Roxy and Lily have become outcasts. Roxy tries to talk to Lily, but she says she's not interested in having friends and becomes the recluse at their school. Roxy is deeply hurt and isn't sure she can function as a recluse._

_The next week she and her mother go shopping at the new mall in Provo, and Roxy spots Danielle with her own mother. They both look happy enough, but when Roxy and Danielle's eyes meet, she knows that the other girl has been hurt in her own way. She manages to drag her mother over to Danielle, and the four of them spend the rest of the day shopping and eating._

_The next day is Sunday, but Roxy gets permission to go over to Danielle's house after church. They settle down in Danielle's new room (once her mother's craft room) and chat while eating gummy bears and pistachios. Eventually, Roxy finds herself talking about school and how she's being treated for not being Mormon. It's a strange thing, to trust someone so quickly after being hurt, but she can't help but think that they've somehow been headed for this for a long time, only other friends and different schools have kept them at bay from becoming closer._

"_That isn't right," Danielle says when Roxy is done talking. "Catholics claim to be the one true church just like my religion says it's the one true church fully restored to what it was before the Fall or whatever. No one should judge you for what you believe." Then she speaks about how members of her family's congregation say cruel things about her sisters because of their learning disabilities, and both girls come to the realization that there must be something wrong with everyone else around them. They promise to stay friends no matter what differences lie between them, and Roxy knows that Danielle will keep her word, no matter what._

_That sunlit afternoon cements their friendship and sets the foundation for something deeper._

* * *

The first thing Roxy decided was that Sam and Dean were going to have to contribute to the groceries, because breakfast for four pretty much ran them out of eggs and bacon. When she announced this, Dean immediately offered to go grocery shopping.

"Dean, I thought we're low on cash," Sam spoke up, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"I've got two cards I haven't maxed out yet," he said.

"Wait, what?" Roxy said.

"Hey, Roxy," Danielle cut in before either brother could speak, "follow me for a moment, would you?" She pulled Roxy into the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

"What's goin' on, hon?" Roxy asked. "Is this another thing you 'neglected' to tell me?"

"For the love of… Look, I'm sorry," Danielle said, exasperated. "It was stupid of me not to tell you about Sam when he went missing, but this other thing… I forgot about it, all right?"

"Forgot that Dean is doin' what?" Roxy asked loudly. "Running credit card scams?"

Danielle snorted and gave Roxy a look. "Not so important in the grand scale of things, doncha think?" The two girls stared at each other for a long moment.

"You know what the real issue is here?" Roxy finally asked.

Danielle sighed and scrubbed at her face. "Would you like a full Q&A when you get off work tonight?"

"Yes," Roxy said firmly. "I'd really like to know everything, you know?"

"Yeah," Danielle said, "I hear ya, and I _am_ sorry."

"I know you are," Roxy said. "Just… you used to tell me everything, you know? I don't like that things are so different now."

Danielle's eyes were wet as she nodded. "I know. I _am_ trying, Roxy. Things have been —"

"Hard," Roxy finished for her. "I know."

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Uh, ladies," came Dean's voice, "is it customary to have secret meetings in the bathroom, cause I gotta go."

Danielle and Roxy both burst into laughter at the same moment. "Sorry," Danielle managed when she opened the door. "It was closest."

Dean stared down at both girls, looking a little bewildered. "Right," he said. "You mind?"

Danielle giggled and pulled Roxy out of the way, bursting into more laughter when Dean shot her another confused look before shutting the door.

"Don't mind Dean," Sam said as they entered the kitchen again, "he's better at seducing girls into bed than he is just communicating with them."

"I heard that!" Dean shouted, voice muffled by the door. This time, Sam joined in the laughter.

"Well," Roxy managed after awhile, "if I didn't have a girlfriend, I'd say he was welcome to try seducing me anytime."

Sam grinned at that. "That's what all the girls say."

"Not me," Danielle stated, and Roxy rolled her eyes.

"You're just impossible all around," she said. "Even before Jared, she never cared much for dating."

Roxy watched as Danielle shrugged and looked away, and she instantly felt bad for bringing up Jared.

"It's fine," Danielle said softly, "and very true."

There wasn't much to be said after that.

* * *

"_Dani, we need to talk."_

_Roxy grabs Danielle and drags her off the stage where she's currently painting a series of flats to look like the interior of a house for their latest play, which Danielle has managed to score the lead role in. It sometimes amazes Roxy that Danielle's as good of an actress as she is. Most people can't tell when she's using her talents to lie about her feelings, but Roxy can. Roxy's the only person who knows every facet of Danielle's personality._

"_What's up?" Danielle asks when they're in a secluded corner of the auditorium, away from all the lights and people._

"_Okay," Roxy says, trying to stay calm, "I've been wanting to talk to someone about this for awhile, but I wasn't sure how to say it and uh…" She presses her lips together. "I've got a crush on Lily."_

_Danielle looks across the theater at Lily Hansen, who is Provo High School's only out-of-the-closet lesbian. It took about four years for Lily to stop being a recluse and reveal the truly awesome person she is underneath the silence and stoicism, and in the months since joining tech crew, Danielle has managed to coax her out of her shell even more. It's funny how Danielle can gain the trust of everyone around her without having to give much of herself back in return. Sometimes Roxy is jealous of her abilities, but mostly she's just grateful that someone like Danielle even exists._

"_How long?" Danielle asks after a long moment, and Roxy has never been more grateful for her friend than she is now. Any other LDS person in Happy Valley would be disgusted by the idea of crushing on someone of the same sex, but not Danielle, even if she _is_ a devout member of her church, going every Sunday, praying five times a day, and even participating in her youth group activities. Still, nothing seems to phase her best friend, and it makes Roxy that much more grateful for Danielle's friendship and trust._

"_About two months," Roxy answers meekly, and Danielle raises her eyebrows before frowning._

"_You usually don't wait so long before saying something," she observes, leaning against the wall in that way that means she wished Roxy had talked to her sooner. "What's the problem?"_

"_I'm pretty sure she only sees me as a friend," Roxy sighs before groaning. "Fuck, I thought I only liked guys, Dani! What the hell am I supposed to do?"_

_Danielle reaches out and clasps Roxy's shoulders tightly. "Tell her," she said. "It's only going to be more awkward to be around her if you don't say anything."_

"_It's going to be awkward when I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way," Roxy states dryly._

_Danielle sighs and runs a hand through her shoulder-length hair. "You know I've got your back no matter what happens, right?" Roxy nods. "Lily's our friend," Danielle says. "If there's anyone around who can understand what you're goin' through, it's her. Even if she only sees you as a friend, she'd still help you make sense of it all. I know it."_

_Funny thing is, Danielle's right. Lily doesn't reciprocate Roxy's feelings, but the experience somehow brings the three of them closer. Lily's death that summer in a car accident hurts them both deeply, but they still have each other, no matter what._

* * *

Roxy decided that Sam and Dean were very easy to like as the days passed. Dean was dedicated to his brother in a way that pretty much took Roxy's breath away. It reminded her of how Jared had been with Danielle, as well as how Danielle was with her sisters and all of their other close friends.

Sam was just a sweetheart all around, his bright smile and dimples showing more and more with each passing day as Danielle carefully helped him put himself back together. Roxy observed her level of dedication and caring, and finally had to ask a question that had been on her mind from the first day she had learned about Sam and Dean. "You love him, don't you?" she asked Danielle one day during their lunch break at school. "You love Sam."

Danielle smiled sadly. "As much as a broken-hearted woman could manage," she answered softly. It hadn't been a full year since Jared's death, so Roxy thought she understood. It was something that could never go anywhere or even get started because her best friend was broken in a way that would probably take years to fix. Still, it was more than clear that Danielle cared very much for Sam and Dean. That night, when Dean headed out to hustle up some cash (you could only rely on credit card scams so much, he had told Roxy) and Danielle was making dinner, Roxy sat down with Sam in the front room.

"I wanna thank you," she said honestly.

"What for?" Sam asked, looking confused. His mental shields were recovering fairly quickly, and she knew he must have had them up at that moment.

"For Dani," Roxy answered. "We've known each other since elementary school, but last year, I almost lost her completely. I'm thankful that you saved her."

Sam smiled and looked away. "She saved me, too."

Dean returned two hours later, insisting that Danielle and Roxy take half the money he'd 'earned' to pay for their rent. "It's the least we can do, you letting us crash here and all," he said, voice earnest and awkward. Roxy thought he really was a darling under that tough exterior of his, and she knew Sam couldn't have a better brother.

* * *

_Roxy and Danielle are both working at the movie theater by the end of the summer after their first year attending Utah Valley State College, and one day, they are working the concessions stand together. Two brothers walk up to the counter, the shorter (and probably younger one) ordering food for them. Roxy is distracted by the way the taller one keeps his eyes firmly on Danielle, even though he never says a word. Roxy ends up overflowing a drink she's getting for another customer and gets Sprite all over her hands. Danielle instantly comes over with paper towels and helps her clean up, all the while chatting aimlessly to the shorter guy._

_Personally, Roxy doesn't really find either brother to fit her personal tastes, but she can't help but lean in close and whisper, "The taller one keeps staring at you."_

_Danielle breaks off in the middle of sentence and turns to Roxy. "What?"_

_Roxy glances at the shorter boy and then nods at the taller one. She watches as short-stuff turns to look at his brother and frowns before tugging on his sleeve and leaning closer to say something Roxy can't make out. The embarrassed look that results on gigantor's face, however, is priceless. "The taller one," Roxy repeats, meeting Danielle's eyes. "He's eyeing you like you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen."_

_Danielle splutters, cheeks going red as she wipes off the customer's drink and slaps a lid on it so hard it breaks. Roxy laughs and shoos Danielle away, replacing the lid and continuing to help her own customer. Meanwhile, she watches from the corner of her eye as Danielle sets a large bag of popcorn on the counter and moves over to her own drink tower to get two Mr. Pibb's for the brothers, the bean pole still watching her silently._

_Roxy has finished with her own customer by this point and she moves closer, asking short-stuff what movie he and his brother are seeing. While he answers, Danielle finishes the drinks and slides them onto the counter. "Anything else I can get you guys?" she asks._

_That's when the thin giant finally opens his mouth. "Would you like to go on a date sometime?" he blurts, face going red a moment later when his brother turns to look at him. Roxy has to work hard to keep from bursting into laughter as she looks at Danielle._

_Danielle pretty much never dates, often finding something wrong with whoever she's with and breaking up before things can get too serious, or just saying she doesn't have time with her busy schedule. Roxy thinks it actually has something to do with the fact that she's always trying to find reasons to not trust someone (given the way people have treated her family, it doesn't surprise her), and of course Danielle doesn't agree. Regardless, the last five guys who have tried asking for a date have been turned down with a simple, "I'm sorry, but I'm really not into the dating scene right now."_

_For whatever reason, however, the way gigantor blurts the question seems to completely throw off Danielle, because a few seconds later, she says, "Sure. Yeah. I'm Danielle, by the way."_

"_I'm Jared," says the giant, reaching across the counter to shake her hand._

_Roxy's jaw falls open, the younger brother looks surprised, and the giant looks relieved, judging by his smile. Roxy takes over the order while Danielle and Jared step aside to exchange phone numbers. The moment Jared and his brother have walked out of sight, Roxy corners Danielle._

"_What the hell was that?" she asks loudly. "You never say yes, anymore!"_

"_I don't know," Danielle replies testily, lightly shoving Roxy away from her and stalking over to the popcorn machine to dump out the kettle. "Besides, it's not like it'll go anywhere. He's gonna be out of town for the rest of this week, anyway."_

"_What? Why?"_

_Danielle sighs. "He works on an oilrig in Wyoming, and apparently it's some week-on, week-off job. I doubt he'll call when he's back in town, anyway, so there wasn't much harm in it, was there?"_

_Roxy raises her eyebrows. "Of course not," she says sarcastically._

_The funny thing, though, is that Jared _does_ call the next week when he's back in town. Both Roxy and Danielle are on break at work, so Roxy's standing right next to her when the call comes. They arrange to meet the next day, and Danielle tells Jared to surprise her on what it is that they are going to do._

"_I bet this date sucks," Danielle confides to Roxy as they wait in line at McDonald's in the mall's food court._

"_You don't know that," Roxy says. "He could be the _best_ guy you've ever dated on your very short list of men." Not that three makes much of a list, she thinks to herself._

_It isn't until late the next night that Danielle calls her, begging her to meet up at Denny's for an impromptu girl-talk session._

"_We went to Lagoon," Danielle says the moment the waiter brings them their drinks and leaves to put in their food orders. Lagoon is Utah's amusement park, like Disneyland or Six Flags, and is located north of Salt Lake City. "The people on oilrigs must make a lot of money, because he paid cash for both our tickets, and he bought _all_ our food!"_

_Roxy blinks. "Okay," she says slowly, "but what's he like?"_

_Danielle leans back in her seat and stares out the window. "He drives like a maniac," she answers, "and he's kinda clumsy, I mean, he's only 21 —"_

"_Two years older," Roxy cuts in, and Danielle nods._

"_He seems kind of… awkward, I guess," she continues after a moment, "but there was this moment…"_

_There's something in Danielle's voice that really attracts Roxy's attention. "What?" she asks. "What happened?"_

"_I told this lame joke," Danielle says quietly, "and I'm pretty sure he knew it already, but he smiled and —" She breaks off and turns her head back to Roxy, eyes wide. "I've never seen anything like it," she whispers. "It was so… beautiful and — Roxy, I think I like him. A lot."_

_Roxy struggles to hide her smile. "After one date?"_

"_We spent over ten hours together today," Danielle says, "and it was the most fun I've had with a guy in well… ever." She leans forward, eyes still wide. "Roxy, what the hell do I do?"_

_Roxy finally smiles, reaching out to take Danielle's hand in her own. "You go on another date with the guy," she says simply. "You trust him, _really_ trust him, and you let him surprise you with how well he handles it."_

_Roxy isn't surprised at all when, one year later, Danielle and Jared are sealed in one of Utah's LDS temples, this one located in Salt Lake City. It's the happiest she's ever seen her best friend, so when Jared dies nearly three years later, the way Danielle closes off and barely cares for anyone in her family, Roxy included, is truly heart-breaking. Roxy doesn't know how to help Danielle, and it hurts. A lot._

_It's over seven months before Danielle reaches out and talks to Roxy again. They share three classes at school, but this is the first lunch break in months that Danielle has shown up at their usual spot, looking sorrowful for the way their friendship has taken a nosedive. Roxy looks closer and finally sees the one thing that's been missing since the day she learned her best friend's husband was dead._

_Grieving. Danielle's finally grieving, and Roxy can't help but feel hopeful that maybe their friendship _is_ strong enough to outlast everything. She forgives Danielle for being a distant prick, and they begin to pick up the pieces of their lives together once more._

* * *

It took a total of ten days before Sam's mental shields were sustainable, and then it was another six after that before Danielle was satisfied that she had 'fixed' him completely. "That stupid yellow-eyed demon should be pleased with me," she had dead-panned when she'd withdrawn her hands from Sam's forehead, "fixing his 'prize horse' for him."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, don't expect a fruit basket for your efforts. Demons suck at thank-you's."

That night, they had a big dinner, inviting Danielle's family and Roxy's girlfriend over. Everyone was careful not to mention anything about the supernatural since Taryn was unaware, but everyone still managed to have a good time.

The next morning, the boys were ready to hit the road once more. "Know what you're gonna go after next?" Danielle asked as Dean placed the last of their things into the trunk of their car.

"Tattoos," Dean answered before Sam could say anything.

"Huh?" Roxy asked.

"Anti-possession tattoos," Sam explained. "We can't really risk losing any protective charms while on the job. Tattoos are more practical, save us a lot of trouble."

Roxy glanced down at the scarred skin on Sam's right forearm, remembering what had happened to him nearly three weeks ago. "Where are they gonna go?" she asked.

"Right here." Sam pointed to his chest, just above his heart.

"Nice," Roxy said. "You'd better send pictures."

Dean chuckled. "I guess you like seeing some man-chest, then?"

Roxy grinned. "I like seeing both of _your_ man-chests." Both she and Danielle burst out laughing when Sam blushed.

"No flirting," Dean admonished with a grin of his own. "You're taken and Dani's still rockin' the single status."

"My girl would totally be all for lookin', too," Roxy pointed out with an even bigger grin. "Photos, seriously."

There was more laughter as hugs ensued, and then the boys were on their way once more.

It was only then that Roxy learned something about her best friend that chilled her to her very core.

They were still standing outside, watching as the old, black car rounded the corner on their street and out of sight, when a question slipped out of Danielle's lips that Roxy had never imagined she'd ever hear.

"Do you think Sam's a better person than me?"

Roxy whipped her head around to stare at Danielle. "What kind of a question is that?" she asked incredulously. "You are _both_ very good people, Dani."

Danielle glanced over at her. "Would you kill to protect the goodness in someone else?" she asked, voice soft.

Roxy opened her mouth, but she had no idea what to say. "Where the hell did this come from?" she finally managed. "Why would you even _think_ of such a thing? Where did you get a fucked-up idea like that?"

More importantly than that, however, why hadn't Sam picked up on this? Roxy _knew_ that Danielle had lowered her shields plenty enough the past few days that he should have noticed something like this. Danielle's brooding was just as obvious as Sam's had been in the days she had gotten to know him and his older brother.

Danielle met her eyes and actually held them this time. Roxy saw a mixture of emotions in their depths, from fear to love and something she was scared was resignation to a situation she thought she couldn't change. "I think it was an angel," was all Danielle said before turning to go back inside. Roxy stared after her for a moment before following.

"Dani —"

"Sorry," Danielle sighed, sitting on the couch. "I don't know why I even asked that."

"Just so long as you don't turn into an axe murderer anytime soon," Roxy grumbled, sitting next to her. "You and Sam are both very good people. I can't imagine why you'd think killing to save someone else from doing the same is a good thing, because that's not you, Dani, not at all."

Danielle nodded silently. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid," Roxy said after a moment.

"Roxy —"

"_Promise me,"_ Roxy insisted as firmly as she had ever insisted on anything.

Danielle met her eyes again. "I promise," she said softly.

Roxanne somehow knew Danielle wasn't going to keep her promise, and that knowledge hurt worse than anything else the two of them had been through in their lifetime together. Neither girl slept well that night, and it was a very subdued Danielle who headed off to church the next morning. Roxy watched her go and wondered, for the first time in the many years they had known each other, if she really knew her best friend, after all.

The idea that she didn't wasn't comforting in the slightest.


	6. Gone Crazy

**Journey**

**Gone Crazy**

**I don't even know where this one came from. It's... weird? Bizzare? A little crazy... Anyway, I have two more one-shots planned before I move onto the next big story, which will be entitled "Demon Game" (that's the working title for now, anyway). Enjoy!**

* * *

Loki loved his tricks.

It was a pretty easy life. Pose in the area as someone unimportant, track down people who were high and mighty, and bring them down with a well-placed prank. It didn't matter if it killed them or traumatized them for life, just so long as he had fun with it.

That was when two Hunters showed up.

Loki wasn't surprised by their presence. He tended to attract them from time to time when he did some of the more outrageous things like the alien abduction he was planning for that frat boy, Curtis, but he was intrigued by the pair he had show up this time.

Sam and Dean Winchester. _We knew it was all gonna come down to you two_.

So he couldn't kill the two brothers. So what? It didn't mean he couldn't play around with them, screw with their heads a little. And really, it was all too easy. He knew what they had been through in the last year, knew how they had become closer as the tragedies unfolded in their lives, but that didn't mean they were incapable of being pissed off with each other, and boy, did he get them too turned around to make sense of anything.

Fun times.

* * *

"I feel like we've gone crazy," Dean muttered as Sam stepped back from the (limited) remains of the research scientist. "The whole town's gone crazy!"

"Relax, Dean," Sam sighed, turning off the light on the microscope thing and snapping the lid back on the remains. "Seriously, if anyone can figure this out, it's Bobby. Let's just head back to the motel."

Dean sighed and nodded.

* * *

Loki had been around for a very long time, longer than anyone knew. Of course, he wasn't about to go spilling that he was really an archangel in disguise, but who needed the details, right? Point was, watching Sam and Dean made him feel just a little bit sad about what was going to come in the future. They really did care about each other.

Of course, so had _his_ big brothers, and look how _that_ had turned out.

Loki shook his head and returned his attention to the lovely ladies feeding him bits of sugary goodness. Man, he _really_ needed to unwind before the memories got to be too much.

The sex was very, very good.

* * *

Once Sam started paying attention to the janitor's emotions, he noticed something very different about them. It kind of reminded him of that shapeshifter back in Milwaukee. They were definitely emotions, but they had a distinctly non-human aspect to them, too. The janitor was _incredibly_ complicated, way more than the shapeshifter could have even attempted. Shapeshifters were pretty driven by their need to look like something other than what they were, and by whatever their desires of the time were.

The janitor's needs and desires were simple, but they weren't, at the same time. It was weird. Sam couldn't help but frown as he walked behind the short man.

"I'm not _that_ short, my friend."

Dean met Sam's eyes with a confused expression and Sam sighed, knowing then that the ruse was up. "Dude, everyone's short to me."

The janitor glanced up at Sam with a grin. "I'd bet, Gigantor," he said, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Gigantor, Sasquatch, freakishly tall," he muttered. "Can't you think of something more original?"

The janitor stopped walking and turned to face Sam and Dean. "Can't you two think of a more original excuse to follow me around?"

"What?" Dean said, looking more confused than ever. Sam gave an inward sigh. None of this was going the way it should have.

"You're a Trickster," Sam said to the janitor.

"Loki, more specifically," the janitor clarified.

"Right," Sam said. "Loki. You killed two people and traumatized a third."

"Oh, come on!" Loki exclaimed. "Those dicks had it comin' to 'em!"

"Still doesn't make it right," Sam said with a shrug.

"Who ever said anything about right?" asked Loki. "Look, how about I give you back your laptop, fix the car and we call it even?"

Dean stared at Loki. "You mean you fix things and we just — leave?"

Loki nodded. "Sounds about right to me."

"Screw this," Dean muttered, turning to walk away. "I'm getting Bobby."

"Dean —" Sam tried, but his brother ignored him, so he turned back to Loki. "Is this the part where you try to kill us?"

"I don't have to try," Loki said with a shrug. "I could just kill ya here and now, you know."

Sam stared at Loki. "You don't feel like that's what you're about to do."

Loki stared right back. "You're more than I expected," he said after a moment.

"Excuse me?" Sam said in confusion.

Loki chuckled. "Look, why don't you just hit the road?"

"Because that's not what we do," Sam said slowly.

"Well, I like you and Dean," Loki said. "No really," he added at Sam's disbelieving look. "I could treat you two to… anything. You want girls? Money?"

Sam sighed. "Not really," he said. "Well, Dean would probably want girls…"

"But what do _you_ want, Sam?" Loki asked, and he seemed genuinely interested.

Sam looked away, wondering how long it would take for Bobby to get over the college campus. "Things you can't give me," he said.

"Try me."

Sam rolled his eyes again. "Look, you're a demi-god, right? That doesn't mean you can give me back my parents, or my girlfriend, or my life at Stanford, or any of it. My life sucks, but it's what I got, so thanks, but no thanks."

"You're no ray of sunshine," Loki observed thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't be either if you were a human with freaky powers and demon blood in your veins," Sam muttered.

"Ah," said Loki.

There was a moment of silence.

"Seriously, we're here to kill you," Sam spoke up at last, staring down at Loki. "Why are we just standing here talking?"

Loki tilted his head to one side. "I decided I'm gonna fight it out with your brother and friend."

"But not me?" Sam asked after a moment, feeling beyond confused now.

"You're the freak, apparently," Loki said with a shrug. "No need to give you Hunters an unfair advantage."

"What?" Sam said, taken aback.

"I'll see ya around, Sammy," Loki said, raising one hand and snapping his fingers before Sam could do anything.

The world went black.

* * *

"Where's Sam?" asked Bobby the moment Dean came running up to him.

"Back with the Trickster," Dean sighed. "He felt more like talkin' than he did ganking the damn thing."

"What?" Bobby said, holding out a stake for Dean to take. "And you _left_ him with the thing?"

"He wanted to stay," Dean said with a shrug, not wanting to admit that he might still be a little pissed off with his little brother in spite of what he knew now. "Look, can we just head back and get this over with? This whole situation is too many shades of fucked up for me to want to deal with it a second longer."

"Fine, whatever," Bobby sighed, snagging a spare stake for Sam. "Let's go."

They headed back to Crawford Hall and split up to try and figure out where the Trickster and Sam were when it became apparent they weren't where Dean had left them.

Dean wandered into a small auditorium to find two fine-looking ladies lounging on a circle bed with red, satin sheets.

"We've been waiting for you, Dean," said with brunette.

Dean swallowed hard. "You guys aren't real."

"Trust me, sugar," said the brunette, "it's gonna feel real."

Dean's eyebrows shot up and he huffed a small laugh.

"Come on," said the other girl, tossing her blonde hair over one shoulder. "Let us give you a massage."

"Well uh," Dean began with a great amount of regret, "you know, I'm a sucker for happy endings, but… I'm gonna… have to… pass." He took a deep breath and told himself to stay strong as the girls cooed and made sad faces at him.

"They're a peace offering." Dean turned around to see Loki sitting in one of the auditorium's chairs.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked.

"Safe," Loki said before frowning slightly. "I think."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demanded.

"He had an unfair advantage," Loki said, waving around a hand that was holding a Snickers bar. "All those powers, you know? If there's gonna be a fight, I couldn't have him."

"And how is that even supposed to make sense?" Dean asked, pulling out his stake.

"Well, I'm not fighting," Loki said with a shrug. "Girls!"

Dean had never seen two hotter chicks throw harder punches in his life. He stumbled to his knees and looked up as Bobby came in, assessing the situation before a man with a chainsaw shimmered into existence and came right at him. Then the brunette was picking Dean up and bodily tossing him onto the stage where he slammed against the edge of the bed before slumping the ground.

Where the fuck was Sam? That was Dean's last non-fighting-related thought as the blonde dragged him to his feet to punch him some more and the chainsaw continued to roar in the background.

* * *

Sam's eyes snapped open and he shot up into a sitting position as he took in his surroundings with confusion.

How the hell had Loki put him back into his motel room?

And then he remembered. Dean and Bobby were going to try and kill the Trickster. "Crap!" he exclaimed, flying off the bed and out of the room. He didn't have a car and he was in too populated of an area to steal and hotwire one. It was going to take too long to get back to the campus.

Sam ran down the stairs and out the door into the parking lot before slamming to a halt.

The Impala was fixed. Sam stared before remembering that Dean had left the keys back in their room. "Shit!" Sam muttered angrily as he flew back into the motel and up to his room, coming back down about two minutes later and sliding into the driver's seat, jamming the keys into the ignition and starting up the engine while thinking of how pissed Dean would be if he knew how Sam was 'mistreating' his damn keys.

The Impala roared out of the parking lot and down the road toward Crawford Hall. Sam was pretty sure he broke a lot of laws on that trip, finally slamming to a stop as close as he could park and almost tumbling out of the car as he hurried up to the building, mental shields flung down as he tried to ascertain where Dean and Bobby were at that moment.

"Hey!" Sam swung around, startled to see the Trickster, because it didn't make sense. Wasn't he beyond those doors marking the entrance to an auditorium?

"What?" Sam gasped out. "I don't understand."

"And I hope you never do," Loki said, suddenly right in Sam's personal space and touching two of his fingers to Sam's forehead. Sam had a moment to curse himself for not being fast enough before everything went black again.

* * *

Bobby's aim was true, and Dean was able to snag the stake out of the air before diving forward and stabbing the damn Trickster right through the chest. Loki had a look of surprise on his face as his Snickers bar tumbled from his fingers before he looked down at the stake.

"Fuck you," Dean snarled to Loki before twisting the stake even deeper.

The girls and chainsaw maniac disappeared, and Dean pulled his stake free, watching as the Trickster's body slumped bonelessly into his chair. Breathing hard, Dean met Bobby's eyes. "Sam," Dean whispered, and then both men sprung into action once again, hurrying out of the auditorium and —

"Sam?"

Said brother groaned where he lay on the floor in the hallway and slowly blinked his eyes open. "Wha?"

Dean sighed and dropped to his knees. "Sammy, you with me?"

Sam focused on Dean. "Hey," he mumbled. "What'd I miss?"

Dean shot a frown at Bobby before focusing on Sam again. "Loki said you sent you somewhere safe, but I don't recall seeing you out here a few minutes ago."

"I was —" Sam broke off with a frown. "The Impala's fixed."

"How do you know that?"

Sam's frown got deeper. "I drove it here?" Dean didn't like that the words came out sounding like a question.

"When?"

"I…" Sam gave Dean a helpless look. "I can't remember."

"Okay," Dean said slowly, helping Sam to his feet and checking his head for any bumps.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam muttered, pulling away and running a hand through his hair.

"But you don't remember what happened after I left you to get Bobby?"

"Well, I remember that," Sam said. "We talked, he offered me whatever I wanted, I declined, then he said he was gonna fight you two but that I had an unfair advantage and then —" Sam broke off again and shook his head. "I'm not sure after that."

"But you know you drove the Impala here," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I don't get it."

"Well, we need to get the hell outta Dodge," Bobby said before Dean could open his mouth again. "Last thing you two knucklehead's need is another murder charge."

"I don't have murder on my record yet," Sam pointed out. "I'm just the Bonnie to Dean's Clyde."

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's go."

As the three men made their way out of Crawford Hall, Sam paused and turned around with a frown. "You killed him, right?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Stabbed him right through the chest. C'mon, we need to go."

Sam looked confused, but nodded and led Dean to where the Impala was parked.

"That is a _shitty_ parking job," Dean commented as Sam handed him the keys.

"I was more interested in getting here before you and Bobby could, you know, die," Sam replied dryly.

"We managed without you and your super powers," Dean grumbled. "And uh, by the way —"

"I know," Sam cut him off. "Me, too."

And thusly another chick-flick moment was avoided. Dean shot Sam a grin and slid into the car. Moments later, the Impala was back on the road and driving away from the campus.

Loki silently watched the brothers go. It was really going to be a shame if the future came to pass. _Which it will_, he told himself. _They'll find a way to make sure it happens, the stupid bastards._ He glanced up at the dark sky, taking in the many stars and what he knew lay beyond them. It was only a matter of time before the world would go crazy, and Loki — no, Gabriel, he thought for the first time in who knew how long — well, he was going to stay out of the line of fire as much as possible.

Too bad the Winchester's wouldn't be able to do the same.


	7. Somethin' to Hide

**Journey**

**Somethin' to Hide**

**Here's the next one. I didn't quite know what I was doing when I sat down to write this one, but it's done and I'm moving on to the last one-shot I have planned for this collection. After that one's posted (probably on Thursday, truth be told), we will finally move on to the next story. Thanks for reading and keep hangin' in there!**

**This is a retelling of 2.19 "Folsom Prison Blues" and vaguely mentions 2.17 "Heart".  
**

* * *

Sam Winchester sat on a hard, metal chair, hands cuffed to the metal table before him. He calmly eyed the man sitting across from him and ignored the other who stood in the corner of the small room.

No one said anything for several moments.

"You know," Special Agent Victor Henricksen finally spoke, "I've been told your brother likes to wisecrack a lot."

Sam smiled slightly, but otherwise kept his mouth shut.

"I'm just trying to understand," Henricksen told him, leaning forward, "why a smart guy like you puts up with him."

"He's my brother," Sam replied. The agent eyed him.

"Is killing innocent people a part of what it means to be a Winchester?"

Sam snorted. "No, Agent," he said. "I wasn't raised by homicidal maniacs, either."

"You mind tellin' me what happened back in Milwaukee, then?"

Sam pursed his lips. "Would you believe a man-droid did it?"

Henricksen stared at him. "I take it back," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Dean's not the only wise-ass in the family. Your daddy teach you that, too?"

"My dad was gone a lot," Sam answered. "Dean pretty much raised me."

"Yes, I've read your file," the agent said, picking up a folder and opening it. "We know that your dad sold his half of the car shop he and another man owned a few months after your mom died, and then he disappeared off the map for a long time before you and your brother started attending dozens of school across the country, rarely staying longer than three or four months in any one location until you graduated and got a full-ride scholarship to Stanford University."

Sam stared at the agent, unwilling to make any further comments.

"You know," Henricksen continued, "I actually tracked down a few of your teachers over your years of traveling, and only a few remember ever meeting your father."

"He worked a lot," Sam said. "Traveling salesman."

"Selling what?"

"Stuff."

Sam had to hide a smile as he sensed the man's frustration mounting. "You ever kill anyone, Sam?"

"Are we talking about living, breathing, everyday _normal_ humans?"

Henricksen nodded with a slightly perturbed look on his dark face.

"Then no," Sam said, resolutely reminding himself that when he'd pulled the trigger last month, it had been a mercy killing of a monster who didn't want to be one.

"And your brother?"

"Not living, breathing, everyday normal humans," Sam said.

"So then you've both killed."

"We hunt."

"Animals?"

"Sure."

Henricksen stared at Sam. "You're not being very helpful."

"And you want my brother on death row for crimes he didn't commit," Sam replied in kind. "Forgive me if I don't want that to happen."

"Why are you defending Dean?" Henricksen asked.

"Why do you care?" Sam retorted. "I'm pretty sure you already think we're both nutcases."

"I can say that Dean is for sure," Henricksen told him. "I mean, he convinced everyone that he was dead and buried. I've seen that corpse, you know, and I gotta say, it was weird how much it looked like your brother. Did you know that corpse was shot with bullets made of silver?"

"Is that a fact?" Sam said.

"It is," Henricksen replied. "Sounds kinda psychotic to me."

"No more psychotic than someone being in two places at once," Sam said with a shrug.

"You're not helping yourself, Sam," Henricksen sighed, finally dropping Sam's file and leaning forward again. "We can easily put Dean away for life, but you still have a chance. I know you got somethin' to hide, but I'm tellin' you, you don't have to."

Sam smiled as he inwardly cursed the situation. He wasn't even supposed to _be_ here, but then how were they to know that the lady at the check-in desk of their chosen motel had been in Milwaukee and seen Dean's face on the TV back in January? Being stormed by the local Arkansas SWAT team the day before Sam was supposed to go and conduct his interviews was only going to make the entire situation harder. He was just lucky that Dean had been out getting food at the time.

"Really?" he said. "Just 'cause I have somethin' to hide doesn't mean I believe for a second that I uh… 'have a chance'. I woulda thought I'd be a suspect in a murder investigation after Milwaukee, I mean, you must've known I was there for that."

"I'm aware," Henricksen said. "I can't help but think that a lot of what's going on is out of your control."

"You have no idea," Sam said dryly.

"Then why protect your brother?"

"Because he's just as in control of everything as I am."

Henricksen frowned. "I don't understand."

Sam smiled once more. "I'm sure you don't."

Henricksen narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "We checked the alias you and your brother used when you arrived here in Little Rock," he said.

"Sounds like the kind of thing you guys do," Sam said.

"That same alias was used over at a motel in Provo, Utah for almost a full month back in November."

"Was it?" How in the hell had that happened? They had thrown out all their old alias' after January… right?

"It was," Henricksen confirmed. "Tell me, Sam, am I gonna find more dead bodies in Utah if I look?"

Sam shook his head and considered putting Danielle on alert once he got out of here.

"Then why were you two in one spot for such a long period of time?"

"The weather was too lovely to pass up," Sam replied lightly. "Why aren't you talking to Dean?"

Henricksen glared at Sam. "It seems we are unable to find him. You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Sam shook his head. "Probably with a girl and a six-pack of beer."

"Does he do that often?"

"Well, not as often as he used to, but yeah."

"And you?"

Sam frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Don't you like to find some lady friends?"

Sam rolled his eyes as he tried not to think of Madison. "I lost my girlfriend in a fire just over a year ago," he said. "I'm not exactly looking for action right now." _Especially not after the last full moon…_

"So I wouldn't find any lady friends you had contact with in Utah?"

"What makes you so sure you could find that out?"

Henricksen leaned forward. "We're very thorough with our searches," he said softly.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure you are," he said.

There was a moment of silence.

"You ever been involved in credit card fraud?" Henricksen asked.

"Have you looked at my wallet?"

"I think we can take that as a 'yes'," Henricksen murmured to his partner, who nodded his agreement. "Grave desecration?"

Sam stared at the agent before saying, "What d'you think?"

Before Henricksen could say anything, however, the door to the interrogation room opened and a woman stepped inside. "Sam Winchester?"

Sam nodded. "Lawyer?"

"Mara Daniels from the Public Defender's Office," the blonde woman said with a warm smile at Sam.

"Awesome," Sam said before looking at Henricksen. "Think we could talk in private?"

"I'm not done," Henricksen snarled.

"Yes," Mara Daniels said, "you are."

Henricksen glared at Sam before leaving the room, his partner, Agent Reidy following him. Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"So," he said after Mara sat down, "just how screwed am I right now?"

* * *

Dean whistled to himself as he drove down the street to the motel he and Sam were currently staying. Times had been a little tough after the events of the most recent full moon, but Sam wasn't quite as broody about the whole thing as Dean had feared he'd be, so he had soldiered onward, taking a case in Hollywood and another over on Highway 41 up in Michigan. Now they were going to hunt down a ghost at the request of their father's army friend, Deacon.

This current case probably wasn't going to be very hard. Sam already had a plan to use his abilities so he could pretty much walk into the location, conduct the necessary interviews and solve the case before moving on to whatever they found next.

Just then, about two blocks away from the motel, Dean suddenly had the urge to stop going any further and get himself out of sight. He followed the urges without thinking, but once he had parked the car on a small side-street, he started to wonder just what the hell was going on.

That's when a SWAT van drove in the opposite direction of the motel he and Sam had been staying in, quickly followed by several police cars, one of which held —

"Sam," Dean breathed, eyes going wide as he watched the car drive by. "What the hell?"

The urge to avoid the motel like the plague was too strong to ignore (_Stupid Jedi powers,_ Dean thought to himself), so Dean ended up relocating himself to another motel several blocks away for the next twelve hours before carefully slipping back to the first motel on foot and trying to figure out what had happened.

There were two cop cars stationed in the parking lot, so Dean found a payphone and called Deacon to let him know what was going on.

"I'm aware," Deacon said over the line. "Sam was part of this morning's busload of new prisoners."

"He's there?" Dean couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of relief. "Is there anyway you can get in contact with him, find out everything that's goin' on?"

"Too risky," Deacon said at once. "It's more than likely someone would notice. D'you think he'd still try to figure out what's goin' on in my prison?"

Dean couldn't stop a grin. "Without a doubt," he answered. "Listen, the best thing to do is wait for Sam to contact you once he's got everything worked out. Once he's ready, call me using the number Dad gave you and I'll coordinate the escape location from there, got it?"

"I hear ya," Deacon sighed, "but be careful, okay? The last thing I want is you in even more trouble than your brother's in right now."

"Don't worry," Dean said. "I'll be fine." He hung up and retreated to his current motel to try and plan out his next move. This whole situation was gonna be tricky.

* * *

The only good thing, Sam thought as he stepped off the bus, was that he had at least ended up in the place he'd wanted to go to. Of course, he hadn't planned on being a _prisoner_ at the Green River County Detention Center. Hell, he'd only been held by the authorities once before, and that had been nothing compared to this. Still, an opportunity had presented itself and he'd be a fool to waste it.

Sam's cellmate had a good three inches of height on him, as well as at least fifty pounds. Sam kept his empathy tightly under control but made sure to mentally ward anyone away who might get any… wrong ideas about him, especially with the way his cellmate just kept staring at him.

Suffice it to say, Sam didn't like jail. And if he knew anything about Dean, then he didn't much like Sam being in jail, either.

Since he had no interest in fighter or bargaining with cigarettes, Sam relied on his 'psychic mojo' to help him locate the main witness he and Dean had been relying on with this particular case. Like most of the other inmates, Randall was a smoker. If he didn't have his abilities, then Sam would definitely required at least two packs of smokes to get this guy to talk, but a gentle, mental shove and Sam learned that Randall had been in the old cell block the night the man they thought might be killing prisoners and guards alike, one Mark Moody, had died of a heart attack.

Or not.

"How much blood was there?" Sam asked Randall, feeling perturbed by the idea of that much violence.

Randall frowned. "It took me three mop heads to get it all," he said, "but the guy's pallet was pretty soaked, too."

It would be a good idea to head over to Moody's old cell and see if the pallet was still there, but there was something that was bothering Sam about the situation. He frowned, suddenly feeling like he was back to square one. "So, he was beaten and nobody reported it?"

Randall shook his head and took a drag from his cigarette as they sat on a set of bleachers in a far corner of the recreation space just outside the main building. "You didn't say nothin' unless you wanted to die of the same heart attack," he answered.

"How many heart attacks were there back then?" Sam asked.

Randall looked up at Sam. "There were a lot of heart attacks back then," he said, "whole rash o'them, but only a few were like Moody's."

"And the others?"

Randall shrugged. "It was weird," he said. "Happened to guys of all ages, usually after they got sick. No one wanted to get sick back then."

"How come?"

Randall raised his eyebrows. "There was this crazy, fucked-up nurse named Glockner. I had to get a tetanus shot once, and she damn near stabbed me clear through my arm with the stupid needle."

Sam sat up a little straighter. "Do you know what happened to her?" he asked.

The look Randall gave him was a little weird, but he answered, "No idea. I finished my time and left. Next time I landed back here, she was gone and the old block was sealed up. But there were these stories that she had it out for cons and was responsible for the other heart attacks that the guards didn't cause."

And Sam knew what he had to do.

"You're a weird guy," Randall remarked after a moment.

Sam shrugged. "College drop-out," he said by way of explanation.

"A smart guy?" Randall snorted. "What the hell you doin' in here, then?"

Sam sighed. "I got an idiot for a brother," he said.

Randall chuckled. "Where's this idiot brother?"

"Evading the FBI, I should think."

Randall's eyebrows rose. "What the hell'd your brother do?"

Sam smiled humorlessly. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and now everyone thinks he's a homicidal maniac and I'm the Bonnie to his Clyde."

Randall guffawed at that and slapped his knee. "I wouldn't go repeating that last part to anyone else, Sam."

Sam laughed. "I'm aware. Don't need anyone thinkin' I'm their bitch."

"Very true," Randall said with a nod. "Very true."

* * *

"Tomorrow night? That soon?"

"Yep," Deacon said over the phone. "Said he already took care of the Moody possibility, but that you need to research this Nurse Glockner who worked here back in the 70s. He said there were rumors back then that this nurse had it out for the prisoners and liked to medically induce heart attacks. If there's any chance that it's this woman killing my people, well…"

Dean sighed. "I hear ya," he said. "Next time you see Sam, tell him not to work so fast, yeah?"

Deacon laughed. "I thought he was supposed to be awesomely smart, son."

"He's too smart sometimes," Dean grumbled. "Anyway, tomorrow night after sunset, east side, right?"

"That's right," Deacon said. "And Dean? Thanks for this, I know I musta put you two in a tough situation."

"Hey," Dean said, "you saved Dad's life. We pay our debts, no matter what."

"Your dad taught you well," Deacon said. "Take care."

* * *

Mara Daniels came to visit Sam during his visiting hours the next day. "Your brother's still evading capture," she said by way of preamble.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Okay."

Mara gave him a decidedly annoyed look. "He's still in town, isn't he? Your brother. He's still here, probably waiting for a chance to break you out."

"I wouldn't know, would I?" Sam said. "I'm the one behind bars right now."

Mara stared at Sam for a very long moment, wondering what it was he was hiding from her. "You know," she finally said, "there's a lot about you two that just doesn't add up."

Sam smiled. "I'm aware," he said.

The young blonde narrowed her eyes. "You're not gonna tell me anything, are you?"

Sam snorted softly and looked down before shaking his head. "Your world is normal," he said softly. "Mine never has been."

That made so little sense, but Mara couldn't help but feel that this was the most honest Sam had been with her since she'd first met him two days earlier. "Stanford was your shot at normal, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

Sam met her eyes and held them for a long moment before nodding. "It was more about being safe," he said. "I almost knew better than to think I could have normal."

Mara narrowed her eyes. "It wasn't an accident that caused your girlfriend's death," she stated, and Sam shook his head after another long moment had passed. "Was your mother's death not an accident, then?"

Sam swallowed and looked away, blinking hard a few times, and Mara was struck by the honesty of his emotions. She had studied psychology as part of being a public defender, and Sam… The mask was off for now. "I guess I'm not ever gonna see you again," she sighed.

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked quietly, and Mara couldn't help but smile at him.

"The less I know…"

Sam nodded and smiled just enough that she could see his dimples. "Right," he said. "Take care, Mara."

"You, too," Mara replied. Minutes later, she left the prison, filled with a mixture of emotions. Mostly, though, she knew she was glad. Sam had been adamant from the get-go that his brother wasn't a psycho, but he had none of the traumatized brain-washing she had thought might be associated with such a strong belief. Whoever Dean Winchester really was, she knew above all else that he was an older brother who took family seriously. She wasn't getting in the way of such a strong bond.

It was later that evening when she learned that Sam had escaped from Green River County Detention Center, and all she could do when Agent Henricksen confronted her about her visit to Sam was smile.

Henricksen didn't seem to like that very much, but the fact was that she knew nothing about how Sam escaped, let alone where he might have gone. "Wherever he is, I bet Dean's right beside him," she told the two men from the FBI as she rose to leave the office they had taken over upon arriving in Little Rock. "I wish you the best of luck in finding them both." And with that, she strode from the office, feeling an odd sense of justice.

When Mara reached her car, she spotted a small envelope tucked under one of the windshield wiper blades. She opened it and pulled out a small, ivory-colored card.

It only said two words.

_Thank you._


	8. Sandcastles

**Journey**

**Sandcastles**

**I think this is the most depressing, angst-ridden piece of writing I have ever written, but I kind of love it, anyway. Anyway, this is the last one-shot for this collection, and starting on Monday, I think, we will begin the next story, Demon Game. Thanks for reading!**

**This is a retelling of 2.20 "What Is And Never Should Be".  
**

* * *

When Sam was seven, John had taken him and Dean to Huntington Beach in L.A. for a day off. Things like this pretty much never happened, so the moment the Impala had parked, Sam had been off like a shot, heading straight for the water, Dean running behind and shouting at him to slow down so he could put on his sunscreen.

It had been one of the best days of Sam's life as a child.

John wasn't around much as Sam got older, but he had at least taken the time in the past to teach both Sam and Dean how to swim. Of course, instead of spending the day playing with his sons, he had settled down in the shade with a few newspapers, looking for jobs. At least, that's what Sam figured when he looked back on that day, given that he hadn't learned the truth until the Christmas after he turned eight. But that hadn't stopped either Sam or Dean from splashing around in the water, roughhousing and swimming out in the ocean far enough to see the edges of the bay.

The best part of the day was that Dean actually sat down in the wet sand with Sam and made sandcastles. Or rather, they each made their own sandcastle and then had an all-out war to see whose would last longer in battle. Dean had won, but Sam hadn't cared one lick. Dean was already sarcastic enough for five people, but that day, he had felt like Sam's big brother, like he gave a damn about more than just looking out for him the way their dad insisted.

Sam remembered watching the tide come in, slowly disintegrating what was left of the sandcastles until they were nothing but memories in his mind. It had been kind of sad, and Sam knew that a day like this probably wouldn't happen again for a long time, if ever, but the memory of that day sustained him through several bad days in the years that followed. That day, Sam knew without a doubt that his dad and brother loved him.

He had returned to Huntington Beach with Jessica Moore the first summer after they started dating. It hadn't been the same, exactly, but the memory of that day was, in and of itself, precious because that was the day he'd garnered up the courage to ask Jess to move in with him. They had been building sandcastles together with Brady, Luis, and a few other friends they both shared, and the question had somehow slipped out in the middle of the conversation.

Jess had looked up at him, eyes shining and mouth slightly open. "You really mean it?" she had asked breathlessly.

Sam had ignored the knowing grins on their friend's faces and nodded. "I'd really like — I mean, I would love it if you would."

After a long moment, Jess had broken into a blinding smile and thrown her arms around Sam, knocking him into the sand as she started kissing him senseless.

"PDA!" Luis and Brady had started shouting while Rebecca Warren had squealed with delight. "Get a room!"

Jess had started laughing, but she hadn't let go of Sam, and he had been happy to wind his arms around her and keep her close. In a different way, it had been one of the best days of his life, and even when the tide came in that evening and washed the sandcastles away, his heart had still been light with the promise of a future filled with safety and love.

If only Sam had known better.

* * *

When Dean didn't call after an hour, Sam started to get worried.

When he tried to call Dean himself and only got voicemail, Sam got even more worried.

When he tracked the GPS on Dean's phone to an abandoned building almost twenty miles away, however, Sam got super worried and a little annoyed. He knew that Djinn were supposed to be pretty powerful, and he was frustrated that Dean had probably gotten himself into trouble with this one because he couldn't be bothered to pick Sam up for backup. "Sorry to whoever owns this," he muttered as he stole a beat-up Volvo and headed out of town. Just then, his phone rang.

"Dean?" he asked without looking at the ID.

"Pretty sure I'm not."

"Oh. Dani."

"Hi," Danielle Young said. "Why'd you think I was Dean?"

"I think he's in trouble," Sam sighed, "and I was hoping that he'd gotten himself out of trouble without my help."

"Oh," Danielle said. "I guess this is a bad time, then."

"I've got a few minutes of driving to do," Sam said. "What's up?"

"My dad just called me," Danielle said, sounding a little worried herself, "said he remembered something from when he was possessed."

Sam sat up straighter in the old car. "Really?" he asked, instantly interested. "What'd he tell you?"

He could hear Danielle swallow hard. "He said it's April, this month."

"What's this month?"

"When uh…" Danielle gave a small laugh. "When it all goes down." There was a moment of silence. "Sam," Danielle finally said, "I think that whatever Azazel's planning, it's gonna happen before the month is out."

"It's already the twenty-second," Sam said, frowning as he sped down the road. "Does your dad have any idea about what's happening, exactly?"

"Sorry," Danielle said sadly, "he didn't know. All he knows is that whatever it is, it's all goin' down before the month is out." Danielle sighed. "I wish I could tell you more."

"That's okay," Sam said at once, "it gives us an actual time frame to work with."

"Yeah," Danielle said. "So, what kind of trouble is Dean in?"

"It's a Djinn," Sam said, "you know, a uh, genie."

"Weird," Danielle said. "How would it do the whole 'granting wishes' thing, do you think?"

"No idea," Sam said. "I mean, Trickster's can create things that are as real as you and me, but if your wish was something bigger like being the president or something…" Sam trailed off.

"You'll have to tell me how it works once you find Dean and stop that nasty Djinn," Danielle said.

"Once I find him," Sam said. "I promise."

"Good," Danielle said. "Oh, there's Roxy, she's picking me up from my dance practice. Call me later, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Take care."

"You —" Danielle suddenly broke off with a scream. Sam could hear something whooshing, then clattering like the phone had dropped, and then silence.

"Dani!" Sam shouted into his phone, pulling over to the side of the road. "Dani, what happened?"

Nothing.

"Dani!" Sam tried again.

"Oh my God!" he heard someone scream distantly, and then he could hear the sound of running footsteps. "Dani!" A moment later, there were more sounds and then he heard Roxy's voice. "Who's this?"

"It's Sam, Sam Winchester," Sam said quickly. "Roxy, what's going on? Where's Danielle?"

"She's — oh, God, she's gone!"

"What?" Sam almost shouted. "Roxy, what do you mean, she's gone?"

"There was this — Sam, it was black smoke or something, and it just — it snatched her and left her bags and phone and — Sam, she's gone!"

"Wait," Sam said, "black smoke? You mean like a demon?"

"I guess," Roxy said, voice shaking. "It looked like what Dani described to me… Sam, why would a demon take her? She said none of you were to be touched until —"

"Until Azazel began the next phase of his plans," Sam cut her off. "Roxy, I have a friend who's been trying to track down others like me and Dani, and they've all gone missing except for me and two or three others besides Danielle. None of them have come back."

Roxy didn't say anything for a moment. "Are they gonna… kill her?"

"I don't —" Sam broke off and rubbed his forehead. "I don't know, Roxy. I don't know, anymore. Nothing makes sense, I mean, these disappearances? They've been staggered over the last five months, groups of three or four at a time, and I don't know what they're doing. I'm sorry, Roxy."

Roxy sniffed. "But you're gonna find her, right? I mean, it's Dani!"

"I'm gonna do everything I can," Sam promised.

"Okay," Roxy said. "Will you call me when you find out what's going on? God, what am I supposed to tell Taryn? She's doesn't know about any of this!"

"Roxy, calm down," Sam said softly. "I will call you the moment I figure things out, but you need to be careful." He ran a hand through his hair. "Do you think Taryn could handle the truth?"

"No," Roxy said at once, "I don't think she could, I mean, it took _me_ three days."

"Then you're just gonna have to say that you found her stuff abandoned," Sam said decisively, "and you'll have to call the authorities as well as Danielle's family. Just — don't say anything to the cops that might sound crazy, okay?"

"Okay," Roxy said. "Please find Dani."

"I…" Sam took a deep breath. "I swear I'll do my best, and seriously, be careful out there."

"You, too," Roxy whispered, and then the line disconnected. Sam sat on the side of the road for a few minutes before he managed to get himself in gear and started back down the road again. He was going to find Dean, save him, and then they were going to find Danielle. They had to, she mattered to him too much to just let it go this time like he had done with Ava.

The old Volvo sped down the road as Sam clutched the wheel tightly in both hands.

* * *

Seeing Dean strung up like a piece of meat made Sam's heart clench. "Shit," he breathed as he quickly approached his older brother. "Dean! Dean! Oh, God." He shook Dean, silently willing him to wake up. "Come on, hey. Wake up. Wake up, dammit!"

Dean stirred and groaned. "Hey," Sam said, lowering his mental shields and taking in Dean's exhaustion and confusion, which was followed by relief.

"Auntie Em… there's no place like home," Dean mumbled.

"Oh, thank God," Sam breathed, cupping Dean's face and staring up at him. "I thought I lost you for a second."

"You almost did," Dean groaned as Sam pulled a strange IV needle thing out of Dean's neck.

"Let's get you down," he told his brother, pulling out his knife and starting on the ropes around Dean's wrists. He was so desperate to get Dean down and out of this place that he barely noticed the approaching presence of the Djinn. Thankfully, Dean still had working eyes.

"Sam!" he barked out in warning and Sam whirled around at once, knife in hand as he blocked the Djinn and forced him away from Dean.

The Djinn looked pretty human, but was covered in strange tattoos and had eyes that glowed a bright shade of blue. He was strong, but then, so was Sam. Unfortunately, this made the match more even than Sam wanted it to be and he had the disadvantage of not knowing the layout of the area as well as the Djinn.

He noticed Dean struggling with the ropes out of the corner of his eye while he and the damn genie faced off, dancing around corpses in various states of decay and one girl in a dirty white dress who looked so strung out she might not even be alive anymore.

And then Sam tripped.

The stupid Djinn was on him in an instant, slamming Sam against the floor and reaching toward him with one hand. It was sparking with a strange blue glow and Sam realized that it was trying to do to him whatever it had done to Dean. Sam could feel Dean's panic and determination to help him, even though he was certain he had enough strength to throw the genie off.

The Djinn was pretty fucking strong, regardless, and just as Sam's mind remembered he could use his stupid telekinesis to do what it seemed he couldn't with brute strength alone, Dean came flying up with the knife Sam had dropped when he'd tripped, and then he slammed it into the Djinn's back. Instantly, the blue whatever in the Djinn's hand sparked out and the blue glow in his eyes faded to a much-paler human-looking blue. Then the Djinn collapsed on Sam.

"Ugh," Sam grunted, pushing the body off him and accepting the hand Dean help out. "You okay?" he asked Dean once he was upright.

"Are you?" Dean shot back, and Sam rolled his eyes before remembering that girl he'd spotted during his fight.

"Is she…?" He opened his empathy and reached out, letting out a relieved sigh a moment later. "That girl over there. She's still alive."

Dean moved forward at once, holding onto the girl as Sam cut the ropes holding her up. "I've got you," he murmured to the girl as she moaned softly and started to resurface. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay? I've got you… I've got you."

Sam swallowed hard and stepped back silently, letting Dean do what he needed to do.

* * *

They took the girl to the emergency room before returning to their motel room. Dean dropped onto his bed, looking listless and more emotional than Sam had seen him in a long while.

"You shoulda seen it," he said nearly an hour later. Sam looked up from where he was packing up all his research. "Mom was alive, and you had Jess… but man, you were such a wuss."

"I guess we didn't get along, then," Sam said, looking away and feeling a little hurt. "I thought it was supposed to be the perfect fantasy."

"It wasn't," Dean sighed. "It was just a wish. I wished for Mom to be alive, and she didn't die, and we never Hunted because she never told us what's out there, and you and I…" He trailed off with a shrug. "We just never, you know…"

Sam forced himself to look at Dean. "I'm glad we do," he said quietly, "and I'm glad you got yourself out, Dean. Most people wouldn't've had the strength. They would've just… stayed."

"I wanted to," Dean admitted, meeting Sam's eyes with his own. "I mean, Dad was dead, but we had Mom, and you had Jess, and Mom was gonna have grandkids…"

"It was just fantasy," Sam said, slumping in his chair.

"But it's what I want," Dean said. "Well, not the part where we didn't get along, but I want that… that normal life, wish or not, and I just…" He sighed and scrubbed at his face. "All I can think about it what this life… how much this _job_ has cost us. We've lost so much, sacrificed so damn much…"

It was like the sandcastles on the beach, Sam thought as he turned away. They both had things they wished for, but at the end of the day, their lives were what they were, and the tide was just going to come back in and disintegrate those dreams until they joined the sand once more.

"It's worth it," Sam said. "Isn't it? What we do? That's what you told me back at Stanford. People… We save a lot of lives doing what we do."

"And how many more do we ruin?" Dean snapped, standing and striding across the room like a caged animal. "How many people do we expose to the truth every damn day who would be so much better off never knowing what's out there?"

Sam didn't know what to say. He had known for months now that Dean had these issues, that he was tired of what they did, that he longed for the normal life Sam had lived and lost, but all he could see were those sandcastles as the tide came in and turned them back into patches of smooth sand. He didn't know how to make this better, how to convince Dean that they had to accept their reality for what it was and learn to make the best of it. That was what Sam struggled to do every day.

"It isn't fair," he said quietly, "and it hurts like hell, but this life… It's what we got, Dean, and wishing…" He swallowed and looked over at his brother. "It won't change anything."

"So you just accept that your life is shitty?" Dean said, voice harsh with emotions Sam imagined his brother didn't want to show any more than they already had in the duration of this crappy conversation.

"What do you want me to do?" Sam asked, rising and lifting his hands slightly. "I tried the normal thing, and a bunch of demons decided to screw me over! I can't go back to that life, Dean, and not just because of revenge for Jess and Mom and Dad or the fact that Azazel won't rest until his fucking 'favorite' goes darkside or whatever."

"Sam —" Dean started, but Sam suddenly found his anger and he couldn't figure out how to push it back down again. So, he let the dam break.

"Our lives _suck_, Dean, and they will never be normal," Sam cut his older brother off. "I can't cry over it because the tide already came in and washed away every last fucking dream I had until there was _nothing left_. I — God, I look at myself and I see someone who will _never_ fit in no matter how hard he tries because his entire life was influenced by demons. I'm not even sure I know who the fuck I _am_, Dean! I wish —" He broke off and turned away, unable to say another word.

Dean didn't say anything, and less than a minute later, the door to their room opened and then slammed shut. Sam sank back onto his bed and let his tears loose.

He wasn't able to stop for a very long time.


End file.
